Tangled
by kamelion
Summary: SG1 assists in an investigation into an explosion at the SGC. Set late in season seven. Rated T for language. Much thanks to Skink aka livengoo. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**_Tangled_**

_Chapter One_

His butt hurt. And his back. And the elbow he bruised when he collided with whomever it was he collided with, the result of which was him staring at that dull grey ceiling for the third time that week._ There has to be a good reason for all this_. Papers fluttered down around him, slicing the overhead lights into odd angles. Muttered apologies floated past his ear, and he felt hands underneath his arms, pulling him upright. He allowed it, trying to regain some sort of dignity and not doing a very good job.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Jackson. . .didn't mean to knock ya on your arse. Guess we both had a nose in our books, eh ?" Stan Greyson chuckled and made a show of busily collecting the papers that littered the hallway. Several people stooped to pick up the odd sheet while others merely shook their heads and walked past.

Daniel grabbed the few books he had been toting and tried to re-file the tossed papers into his folder. "No, no, it's okay, I can walk and chew gum, but maybe walking and writing briefing notes was a bit ambitious."

Stan smiled and passed his stack over. "Were you like this back in Chicago? 'Cause I don't remember having to clean up your messes."

"Yeah, well, can't say I remember you being around to clean up my messes. It was a great way to pick up girls, though."

"Oh, come on. You?"

Daniel managed a chuckle. "Well, they usually picked me up. Off the floor."

His friend held up his hand. "Now wait, this doesn't mean a date, does it?" Stan smiled at the slightly startled expression he received. "So, got a briefing?" He cocked his head to look at a final sheet of strange symbols before passing it to the archaeologist.

"Yeah, actually I'm running late. Thanks for the help."

"You're joking, right? I was the one that caused it. I'll even write you an excuse for the General if you need one." Stan mimicked writing on a pad as he walked backwards down the hall, narrowly missing two other airman.

"Uh, why don't you watch where you're going instead?" Daniel nodded at the people behind Stan while reorganizing his bundle, then glanced at his watch. The General was going to have his still-sore ass. Maybe the impromptu note would have been a good idea after all, lighten the mood a bit.

He rounded the corner and hurried on. A chill floated lightly over him, and he looked up to see if one of the air ducts was open. It wasn't, and he realized the chill was now making him shudder and filling him with a sense of foreboding that he couldn't understand, giving him a knot of expectation in the pit of his stomach. Silly. He shook it off and cursed loudly at his watch, then opted for the stairs which were faster than the elevator this time of day. He flung open the door, praying no one was on the other side, then slammed hard against the side rail as the floor rocked beneath him, an explosion bruising the air. Papers were airborne again, but it was the last thing on his mind. Pushing his glasses back onto his nose, Daniel stumbled to his feet, his documents forgotten, and rushed to the elevator where he watched wide-eyed as several soldiers gathered around the shaft where he would have been, trying to pry open the doors while yelling into their radios for help. Without further thought he ran to them, the need to assist overriding any anxiety he might feel as to the consequences of his actions. He could feel the fluid heat, the metal doors burning his fingertips, causing him to constantly pull them away and shaking them in frustration. The door was open barely an inch when a fiery light burst through the opening, knocking Daniel flat on his back, his breath scorched, his face burning, his eyes tearing. He tried to roll out of the way. There was a weight on his legs, a furnace above, and he was caught in the middle of hell. He coughed and raised his head, the yells and screams burrowing frighteningly into his head, and felt the panic as others ran around and pressed in to help. He tried to pull in a breath, wanting to tell them to back away, that he couldn't breathe, he couldn't see, just back the fuck up and leave him alone. He never got the chance.

General Hammond had just taken his seat at the conference table when everything shook violently. He slapped his hands on the table and watched the glass of water he'd just poured spilled out over the glossy wood before he could grab it. Alarms pealed as he jumped to his feet, colliding with Colonel O'Neill in the doorway. "What the hell happened?" he demanded.

"We don't know, sir. We're getting calls from all over." Major Carter was at the colonel's shoulder, spinning on her heel as they ran to the control room. Everyone was talking over everyone else, people slamming frantically into each other as lights continued blinking and the sirens wailed . Hammond's first glance was at the stargate, which remained stationary. His next glance was at the screens that were flipping across various security sites before landing on a ghastly scene.

"Report!"

Carter was already plugged in, her head tilted towards the earpiece she'd donned. "Apparently there was an explosion, sir, level 23 elevator shaft. Medics and security on the way."

"Anything from NORAD?"

"Not yet sir."

Hammond nodded and turned. "I'd take the stairs, sir!" Harriman yelled behind him.

The hall was filled with an acrid smell. Hammond shouldered his way through, noting the injured and medics while trying to avoid jostling them. He passed several MP's, each with a wary look on their faces, nearly concealed by the large helmets. The area was much warmer than it should have been, and he began to notice the pungent smell of charred flesh, just distinguishable from the smell of overheated metal. The General put his hand over his mouth and was instantly passed a face-mask. "Cause?"

One of the emergency personnel walked over to him, taking his upper arm gently and leading him into an open room, and out of the way. "Not sure yet, sir, but with due respect, you shouldn't be here. It could be elevator malfunction, it could be one of those chemicals in transport, but until we know it's safe you shouldn't be here without proper precautions." He gestured at the mask. "That may not be as efficient as we hope. We're talking the possibility of radiation, they've gone for the suits."

"Understood!" Hammond coughed. "Get the rest of these injured out of here and seal off this corridor." He pressed the airman on and cautiously stepped out, pulling back as a gurney wheeled past. He exited through the blast door to find Teal'c on the other side.

"Any news, General?" The Jaffa's voice was unusually somber. His large mouth was turned down, the corners twitching with anxiety.

"Not yet, Teal'c. Right now all I know is that there was an explosion and people were hurt. At the moment I don't even know who or how many." Hammond did hesitate in his speech, but walked quickly down the hall with Teal'c keeping stride.

"That is what I have come to tell you, General. Dr. Frasier has informed me that DanielJackson is with her."

Hammond paused. "Dr. Jackson? Please tell me he wasn't in that elevator!"

"I have my doubts that anyone inside the elevator survived, General. DanielJackson was in the hallway when the blast hit."

Hammond had turned upon hearing the news and was now walking rapidly to the infirmary, dodging airman and emergency personnel. "What of the other injured?"

"There are several. I do not know any further details."

Hammond gave a nod. He entered the infirmary minutes later, and was immediately shoved aside by Dr. Frasier, who was about to bitch when she realized who it was she was facing. "General! I'm sorry, I didn't see you. . ." she gave an apologetic glance but continued on her path, flicking a syringe with her fingernail. She gave a shot to a man in obvious agony and rubbed his arm as he moaned.

Hammond kept it brief. "What's our status, Doctor?"

"Six with severe burns," she responded quickly, "three with minor, and as far as I've heard three dead, but that's not confirmed, there hasn't been time."

Hammond nodded and glanced over the infirmary until he spotted the still form of Daniel Jackson on a distant bed. He was almost afraid to ask. "Doctor Jackson?"

"Unconscious, superficial burns, scorched throat and eyes. Nothing severe, but he'll be uncomfortable for a while." She pushed by him and prepared another needle.

He knew when he was in the way, and this was definitely one of those times. "I'll be in my office," Hammond said, edging aside and bumping into a cart. "I want a report asap."

She hardly glanced at him. "Yes, General."


	2. Chapter 2

Sam stared at the wall encasing the elevator shaft. Her instruments were no help, absolutely no help at all. What she needed was to get in a suit, and get the spectrometer working again, this was SO not the time for that machine to go on the blink. She cursed and made an adjustment.

"Major?" Jack stood to the side, talking with the MP's after examining the charred walls and floor. "What'cha got?"

Sam sighed in frustration. "Readings are off the scale, sir." She bent and collected her materials before pushing him aside. "We need to get someone suited up and in here, and tell the General to seal off the entire level. The radiation is just too high, and it's climbing." She signaled to the men near the shaft and they quickly started to pack their gear. The Colonel gathered the few instruments near him.

"What, no precautions? You just charge in here?"

"The readings were low when I arrived, but they started sky-rocketing just moments ago. Which is why we are leaving now. Sir." She nodded to the men who passed her and grabbed Jack's arm. Her breath caught as one of the instruments banged against her leg. They closed the blast door behind them.

"Need help?"

Her look bordered on incredulous. "Sir, I need to get someone suited up."

"I know that." Jack set his load down beside Sam's. "And I said, do you need help?"

"Are you volunteering?"

"Do I know what to look for?"

"No, sir."

"Then I'm not volunteering."

This was not the time. . ."Yes, sir. Baker will go in, he should be back with the suits any minute now." She stopped her preparations and looked up with an anxious expression. "Is there any word on Daniel?"

"Just came from there. Minor burns. Scorched throat. Basically he'll feel like shit for a while."

Thank God for that. There were times when she wondered if he should walk around with a sign that said, 'Warning. Close contact could be hazardous to my health.' "He was lucky."

"Yep. He's one unlucky lucky bastard. Teal'c keeps hovering. You'd think he blew up that shaft or something."

That wasn't surprising. "He doesn't like Daniel hurt."

"And you do?" Jack look up as a large yellow radiation suit jaunted down the hall. "Good Holy Mary. . . "

"Sure you don't want to volunteer?" Sam took the other suit offered.

O'Neill contemplated the suffocating helmet and winced. "Not my color. More of a cool tones man myself."

"Oh god, is Teal'c looking at those magazines again?" Sam forced in one leg into the hazmat suit, then the other. Pulling the bulky material over her slim hips was easy enough, but the massive shoulders were a bit much. Obviously not made for a woman. "And they call these things unisex," she muttered.

"Hey, if you're gonna learn propaganda, what better place to start?" He hoisted the suit over her small shoulders and picked up a glove, which looked eerily like it already had a hand in it. "You gonna be okay in there?"

"What, in the hallway or in this getup?" Sam smiled in mild amusement. Jack actually seemed. . . hesitant. "Sir, I've done this dozens of times."

"But you don't know what's in there."

A half-grin colored her face. "That's why we're going in, sir."

"Right." He jammed the glove on her hand. "I'll, uh, I"ll wait here then."

Sam pulled the odd, bulky hood over her head and nodded, then picked up the instruments she had just discarded. A slight whoosh, and she was back in the hall.

Jack hovered at the door, listening, standing on toe, and finally decided he was being as annoying as Teal'c must seem to Daniel. Speaking of which. . . .

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The room was spinning, and he was certain it wasn't supposed to. Daniel closed his eyes and reopened them several times, waiting for the world to stop. The wait wasn't long, and his eyes focused on a lovely redhead in a long white coat, a person he dearly loved, yet under most circumstances hated to see, because it usually meant one thing. "Janet?" he croaked. His throat ached, his eyes stung. He slowly sat up, and felt a hand on his back, one that did not belong to the petite doctor.

"Daniel Jackson. You must rest."

It took a moment to register the unexpected voice. "Teal'c?"

"It is I. I will summon Dr. Frasier, only you must lie down." The Jaffa gently guided Daniel back down to the mattress and turned as the doctor walked in.

"Thanks Teal'c, but I saw him wake." She smiled and gently worked her way past him to Daniel. "How are you feeling?"

"Been better." Daniel swallowed, and wished he hadn't. "Why. . ?" He sat up again, and again felt a large hand on his shoulder.

"You don't remember?"

Daniel winced. "Uh. . ." he winced again and shook his head, trying to jar a memory. The action sent him back to the sheets, and he saw the annoyed look of the Jaffa before closing his eyes briefly. "Fire." He strained to look at the doctor. "There was a fire?"

"An explosion, Daniel. In the elevator. You helped to open the doors, trying to rescue the people trapped inside. Do you remember now?"

"I, uh. . ." he swallowed and brought a hand to his head. Closed his eyes. He thought he heard a voice telling him to rest, and gave into it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Waking this time was easier. Daniel opened his eyes and blinked a few times, no longer feeling the need to rip them from their socket and feed them to his fish. He focused on his bandaged fingers and felt a sudden shock jolt him as he remembered the last time he lay in a bed, bandaged. . . "Janet?"

She turned and walked to his bed. "Daniel." Her smile betrayed her professionalism. "Well, you look better. Just as well, I had to force Teal'c out of here to. . .what is it?"

He was shaking. So help him, he was shaking. "Please, tell me this isn't deja vu." He continued to study his hands. He noticed each thread in the wrapping, remembering another time when he was reduced to lying in bed, studying the bandages on his hands while steeling his nerve for what was to come.

The smile Janet gave was small. "You're going to be fine. You have some minor burns, and you'll have a funny taste in your mouth for a while. Throat may burn for a bit."

"You sure?"

"I'm a doctor too, Daniel. And I know more about this stuff than you do."

"Can you unwrap my fingers?"

She frowned, sensing something in the unsettled look on Daniel's face. "There's an ointment on them, I don't want. . ."

"Janet, PLEASE!" The panic in his eyes confused her. He could see it, but wasn't about to explain. She gave a slight nod and sat on his beside, raising one of his hands away from his tortured stare. "Do they burn at all?"

"No, no, they feel fine, just-just get the wrap off. Please." His breath was caught in his throat, and he reached over with his other hand, picking at a bandage that wouldn't come off, would never come off, not while he was alive.

But slowly the white did come off, revealing pinkish, greasy skin. Daniel's breath settled. Normal skin. Not blistered, not. . .he noticed her stare. "Sorry. It's just. . .I-I guess the bandages. . ."

"What about the bandages?"

"I. . .uh, the last time. . .it's silly."

Janet frowned, then winced in sympathy. "Oh, Daniel. . . the burns. . . you thought. . ." She winced and carefully lay her hand on his arm.

"Last time I had myself wrapped up," he chuckled in a depreciating manner, and held back a moan as his throat protested, "I dream about it sometimes, or maybe I'm just remembering. I don't like bandages."

"Daniel, I'm so sorry. But there's really nothing to worry about. They probably could have come off in another hour anyway, just don't rub your fingers on anything."

"Not likely." Daniel winced and studied the abused digits, then a light went off in his head as he slowly took in his surroundings. Several people were swathed in white bandages, covering their faces, arms, hands, torso. For a moment he though he was on a dig, or in one of those childhood nightmares where the mummies were freshly wrapped and coming for him, pissed because his parents had broken in on their sacred rest. And of course there was that whole bandage thing again, slowly being wrapped bit by bit, laying in agony, waiting to die. . .he closed his eyes as the emotions crashed in on him, and he tried to still his panic.

"Daniel?" Janet leaned in slightly. It probably never occurred to her that of all things, Daniel's past experience with radiation would result in a phobia like this. She had noticed he had been avoiding the infirmary as much as possible in the past week, but she had been so busy it hadn't occurred to her to think it odd, even though he used to come by to chat briefly, or share a discovery.

"God. Are they going to be okay?"

"At this point it's hard to say," Janet replied, a soft tone covering her professionalism. "Several have third degree burns. The problem at the moment is the possibility of infection. I may have to send them out to the academy, I'm not really set up for long term care."

"But they'll be okay?"

"It's hard to say," she repeated, and Daniel knew that didn't bode well. "Some, maybe. Sgt. Pilkar though. . ." she hesitated as Daniel pinned her with those bright eyes of his. Sgt. Bob Pilkar shared an interest in Egyptian myth, and had read his earlier paper with great interest, sparking some lively conversation. Stories of his trouncing Jack at poker were SGC legend.

"Bob's okay, right?"

"I'm sorry, Daniel. He caught the blast in the face. His eyes. . ."

"Blind?"

"More than likely."

Daniel was at a loss for words, and just shook his head, then realized for the first time that it was bandaged as well. He reached up to touch the binding but his hand was forced down. "I though you said no serious injuries?"

"Another burn. That pad is medicated, your forehead will look a little sunburned, but it's nothing to worry about. I'll give you an ointment for that too if it becomes too uncomfortable, as well as something for the headache I'm sure you're hiding from me."

"Know it all. Can't get anything past you." Daniel smiled faintly, once again studying his fingers His face grew serious. "Those men in front of me. They got the brunt of the blast. . .has anything been said about it?" He hesitated. "Were there. . .?"

Janet nodded slowly. "Three people were inside. They're dead."

"Of course." Daniel hung his head. Of course they were. No one could have survived that. "Who?"

Janet rubbed his arm. "We're still seeing who's accounted for. Now let me check that bandage. There's really no further need to keep you here. I do want a checkup before you leave the base tonight, and first thing in the morning. The General wants to speak with you as soon as you feel up to it. And Daniel," she started to take his hand, but settled for placing a caring hand on his shoulder, "if you get those fears again, don't keep them to yourself. Come talk to me, or Sam, or Teal'c, or even the Colonel if you can stomach him." The last part of the statement was flippant, but it didn't carry.

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Daniel gave Janet a small smile which fell as he studied the empty gurney across from him. Three dead. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Three dead. Here in the SGC.


	3. Chapter 3

"Three dead, sir." Sam met the General's stare with one equally professional, one calculated to disguise any shock she might feel. They walked down grey halls that seemed dimmer than normal. "One was Lt. Mason."

"Lt. Mason." Hammond paused, then turned in surprise. "Donna Mason? Didn't she just get back from leave?"

"Yes, sir. Her little girl was very sick."

"Just had a birthday, didn't she?"

"Just turned four."

"Mother of god," Hammond sighed.

Sam didn't want to think about it. It set her biological clock on edge. "We're still trying to identify the other two. After that kind of explosion there isn't much to go on."

"Any idea how this happened?" Hammond asked as they entered the conference room.

"At the moment there's no leads, and no idea as to what triggered the explosion. But I can say it is unlike any detonation device we have encountered."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, for starters, there is no trace of a chemical signature for a terrestrial weapon that would produce this kind of detonation, nor are there any mechanics left behind from the blast to study. That and the radiation signature isn't consistent with the weaponry we know." She spread sheets from her folder onto the smooth table surface.

"An alien device?"

"We can't rule that out, sir. The energy signature it left behind is unlike anything I've ever seen. In fact I suggest we completely close off the area until we know what we're dealing with." She looked up as Jack O'Neill entered with Teal'c. "Colonel."

"Major." Jack sat in his chair and swivelled toward the General. "Janet says Daniel is going to be fine. She's released him and he's on his way up now."

Sam blinked in astonishment. "That's good news, sir, but is that wise?"

"Well, you try keep Daniel in the infirmary. Doc said he could go, and you'd of thought his ass was on fire." Sam allowed a smile to light her face, and saw the half-hidden smile that the Colonel gave in response.

"I'm just glad he's safe," General Hammond said pointedly. He sat back in his chair and addressed the newcomers. "Colonel, is it possible that we could have provoked someone off world without our knowledge? Have there been any events or evidence in your recent travel that may suggest infiltration?"

"None that we can think of, General Hammond," Teal'c replied for Jack, who just shook his head.

"Sabotage?"

"General," Jack said, "we're looking at dozens of possibilities here. Rogue Tok'ra, NID, pissed off Russians 'cause we blew up their DHD . . ."

"At this point I'm reluctant to rule anything out, sir," Sam added, thus decreasing the verbal list.

"What action is being taken right now?" Hammond asked.

"We're still taking measurements of the radiation left behind," Carter passed the General a piece of paper. "With your permission, I think that level 23 should continue to be sealed off for at least the next 48 hours until we know what we are dealing with."

Hammond nodded, studying the sheet in his hands. "Dr. Frasier is still receiving reports of SGC personnel with headaches, temporary loss of hearing, and overall jitters. It seems the main injuries were sustained by those who opened the shaft, not to mention the unfortunate people inside. What of NORAD?"

"Slight percussion sickness, people with earaches, headaches, only very minor damage to the facility."

Hammond leaned back in his chair. "Keep level 23 sealed, as well as 22 and 24. I want code red status. No one is to leave or enter this base. Tell the off-world units they're on standby until further notice. The gate is to be used in emergency situations only. And I want NORAD on the line asap to verify their status."

"Yes, sir."

"Teal'c, you've seen the readings from the energy signature that Major Carter has. Do you have any experience with this kind of explosive?"

The large man raised a dark eyebrow. "I regret that I do not. However we are still obtaining information." His hands rested on the table; he turned the palm upwards in a motion of defeat. "At the moment, I am afraid I am of little use to you."

"We're all in a bit of a holding pattern right now, Teal'c. I'm sure when the time comes you will help in any way that you can."

"You have my promise, General Hammond."

"Good enough." Hammond looked up as Daniel entered the conference room. The relief in the room was palpable.

"I, uh. . .sorry I'm late," Daniel said rather sheepishly. He took his seat beside Jack and gave him a rueful look.

"Yeah, well, just don't let it happen again," Jack's tone was light, but he raised his eyes to look at the burn on Daniel's head. Daniel gave a nod to his unspoken question and turned his attention to the General.

"Glad to see you back, son."

"Thank you."

"You want to tell us what happened?" The question was gentle. Truth was, he hated to make the man talk, he was obviously still suffering some effects from the blast, including what sounded like a painfully scratchy throat.

Daniel leaned forward and rested his wrists on the table's edge. His fingers worried at each other as he collected his thoughts. "Uh, there's not a lot to tell, actually, I was on my way here and, literally, ran into Sgt. Greyson in the hall. I, uh, I dropped my things and he helped to pick them up." He paused as his sentences grew more painful to utter. "I headed for the elevator, but took the stairs instead. I – I had just reached the stairs – and there was this noise – everything shook and I fell. I saw people trying to open the elevator doors and I went to help." He stopped, pulling at his memory, and cleared his throat.

"You were at the elevator?" Sam prodded gently.

Daniel started. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I was. . .at the doors." He cleared his throat again and gently wrapped his fingers around the mug Jack set before him. He took a gulp of what he hoped was coffee, and turned out to be water, then continued. "We managed to open it a bit. There were, uh, four men in front of me, I think; I had to reach over them and try to work the top. We opened it an inch or so and this light came out, like a fireball, all heat, and it blew open. It threw us back. I-I heard another noise, and that's all I can remember."

"Another noise?"

"Like," he winced as his mind searched to describe the indescribable, "screaming."

Sam swallowed and looked down. The general took a deep breath and glanced at Teal'c, who was the very model of composure expect for the subtle look of distaste on his dark features. Jack kept stealing glances at Daniel. The silence hung in the air for sometime, each paying their respects in an impromptu memorial service of sorts. The general finally dismissed the team with the instructions that they were to stay on the base in the hospitality rooms.

Sam nodded and gathered her notes, and wasn't surprised to find Daniel at her side. "Going to the lab?" he asked.

She paused. "Yeah, I was going to run another spectromagnetic analysis."

Daniel nodded, and tucked his hands in his pockets. "Mind if I tag along?"

Sam studied his worn face and tired eyes, preparing to make the usual demand of rest and recovery, then looked at the pain in his expression. She nodded. "I could use the help. Thank you."

"Hey, you kids don't have too much fun," Jack commented as he held back so they could pass through the door. Sam just snorted and started down the hall, but Jack took her arm and nodded Daniel on. He waited until the man was further down the hall. "You sure this is a good idea?"

"Sir?"

Grey brows rose questioningly. "Daniel."

"I think he needs the distraction, sir."

"And I think he needs rest." His determined statement bounced off Carter's stern face. "Well, don't make him talk. Lemme ask you something. After an explosion like that. . .he didn't really hear them screaming, did he?"

Sam's eyes lowered. "It's doubtful. He could have easily heard the compression of the air as a result of the heat, or the roar of the flame."

"But he thinks it was screaming."

"It would probably sound similar, and with what happened he could easily have thought he was hearing screams."

"So. . .we looking at emotional shock here, or what?"

"That would be for Janet to decide, but it wouldn't surprise me."

"Right. Keep him busy for a little while, then I'll see that he gets some rest. No, wait, ya know, I'll come along too."

"Sir. . ."

"Ah-ah! Let's go. I need a way to amuse myself right now."

As it turned out, he didn't stay long. That didn't surprise Sam or Daniel, but it did relieve them to no end. Sam even gave an audible sigh as the Colonel left, which cause Daniel to grin. "Glad it's not just me."

Sam chose her words carefully. "Daniel, you know I like him, it's just that. . ."

"It's just that neither one of us are ready to have kids yet," Daniel teased as he winced into the microscope. "This isn't doing any good." He back away, rubbing at still sore eyes. "Sorry."

Sam turned in her chair. "Daniel, what are you doing?"

"Looking through this thing." He thumped the microscope with his fingernail.

She smiled. "You realize that has nothing to do with radiation detection or measurements of the trace element we found."

"No. . . but it looked interesting."

"Daniel. . ."

He grimaced. "Sorry. Guess this is either a little above me. Either that or I'm more out of it than I thought."

"Sit." Sam pulled a stool next to her and pointed to the graph on the screen. "This is a reading taken of an explosion using C-4, and this is the readings from the explosion in the elevator shaft."

"Nothing alike."

"Right. So we can rule out C-4. We're still testing chemicals in the labs, all weapons, but I really don't think there's anything here that would cause this kind of explosion."

Daniel toyed with a pen he'd plucked from her holder. "What's so special about it? I mean, it didn't blow the SGC to bits. There's things down there that could cause an explosion ten times this."

"Exactly. But the readings indicate that the power output is phenomenal, or rather the possible power output. This thing, whatever it was, is capable of an explosion that would not only take out this mountain but half of Colorado." She shook her head. "Apparently the conditions weren't right, or something."

"How do you know it was more powerful?"

"It has to do with the trace signatures." She pointed to the screen with her pencil. "These spikes are common for something with the power of an atomic warhead. Obviously if this thing had that kind of power when it exploded. . ."

"Bye-bye half the US."

"Something like that." She turned to the screen, the light creating an eerie glow on her face. "It's almost like it was semi-dormant, like something else was needed to trigger that extra power."

"So what happened to the extra power?"

"I don't know. It was absorbed, it's still in the air, I don't know. For all I know someone could light a match on level 23 and blow up the SGC. I don't even know what this power source is."

"So it's not anything from the station."

"According to these readings, I doubt it's anything from earth, unless someone is engaged in an experiment here we don't know about."

"So. . . this is caused by something extraterrestrial?"

"I don't know! It's just a theory right now, but I can't think of a single thing that would cause this kind of energy output without causing the kind of damage produced by an atomic explosion."

Daniel stared at the screen thoughtfully. "Sam, this is a crazy thought, but. . ." he shook his head and looked down.

"What?"

Daniel cleared his throat and took another sip of his drink. He gathered his thoughts. "This is something that is producing high amounts of radiation, and according to your current theory, is something that requires an outside source to trigger it." His voice faded painfully, and he took another sip of water.

"Right." Sam handed him a notepad, intending for him to use it rather than speak, but he waved it away.

"Well. . .remember that artifact I brought back from PX4112, several months ago, the one that we ended up storing for further testing?"

Sam frowned. "It showed unusually high levels of radiation. . ."

"And it took an outside element to trigger it, only we didn't know that until you found me unconscious at my desk when I was studying it." He smiled.

"Good thing too." She shuddered, trying to hide it from Daniel.

His thoughts were elsewhere. "We shipped it out for further testing, but it was shipped back, right?" Slight cough.

"Right. . .Doctor Holland requested that it be shipped out for further research, but the only reason it was shipped back was because it proved dormant after their experiments."

"Says who? I mean, how do we know for certain?"

Sam's eyes narrowed. "You think it was still active?"

Daniel nodded, and leaned over her, staring at the screen. "It's possible. Do a search. See if anyone entered the vault prior to the explosion, and if anything had been signed out."

Sam typed in a search, several passwords, and waited. "There! PX 4112-S7-98, signed out at oh-seven hundred. . .that was just ten minutes before the explosion."

"Who signed it out?"

"Uh. . .oh." She winced. "Lt. Donna Mason."

He straightened. "Okay, that could be a problem."

"No, time wise it could work. She could have signed it out, keyed in the info, gone through security protocol. . ." Sam turned to another screen and typed in a search, then pulled up a graph. "Um. . .yeah, look." She swivelled the screen towards him. "Compare the two spike signatures."

Daniel looked. The lines soared like the peaks of the Rockies. "They're the same."

"I'll need to run some more tests, but you might be onto something here." She sensed a heavy presence hovering at her shoulder. Daniel was studying the screen again, his eyes winced, his head drooping. "Daniel, you've done all you can here. You've been great. Now I'm kicking you out. Go sleep. Gargle."

Daniel's retort was capsized by a yawn. "Yeah, okay. I'll be in my office."

"You know you were assigned sleeping quarters."

"I'm used to sleeping at my desk."

"Daniel, rest. No work. Rest."

"Pot, Kettle. You're as annoying as Jack, you know?"

"No one is that annoying. Go. Good night."

"More like morning," he croaked, and glanced at his watch yawning again. He gave a wave and staggered to the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack was bored. At the moment there was absolutely nothing he could do; he was in one of those annoying limbo moments where his next action hinged on a response which hinged on an action which wasn't happening any time soon. Any attempts to catch a nap eluded him. So he roamed the halls, tempted to return to Carter's office and see what the dynamic duo had discovered. That thought was a bit painful. He decided to wait for Daniel in his office. Surprise him when he walked in, admonish him for working 13 hours straight.

He wasn't sure which was more surprising; finding Daniel on a small cot crammed in the corner of the office, curled up on his side and facing away from the door, or the fact that he'd even been able to cram one into the small and crowded office space. His slow, steady breathing spoke volumes about the state of his rest, but for some reason Jack was reluctant to leave. Instead he sat at Daniel's desk, propped his feet, and watched the man in the corner.

The crick in his neck was not good. Jack groaned and shifted, then grunted as the chair tilted and released him, dropping him hard on his side. He cursed and heard a startled noise from the corner cot. "Mmff. . .whu. . .Jack? What – you okay?"

Jack winced and forced himself upright, grasping the back of his neck. "Peachy."

Daniel propped up on one elbow and rubbed his forehead. "What are you doing here?" he asked sleepily.

"Well, I thought I couldn't sleep."

"Looks like you were wrong."

"So it would seem." Jack used the edge of the desk to pull himself to his feet, upsetting papers as he did so. Daniel just winced and rolled to lay flat on his back. Jack replaced the fallen documents and gave his head a shake, trying to clear the clouds from his mind. "How'd you cram that thing in here, anyway?"

"I'm used to careful manipulation of objects."

He wasn't going to touch that. "Commissary?"

"Coffee?" Daniel asked through hands that were once again rubbing his face.

"Of course. I know better than to try and talk to you in the morning without it."

Daniel peeked through his fingers. "Are you sure you just couldn't sleep?"

Jack stopped halfway to the door and turned. "Well, okay, I might have been a little bored, or. . . concerned. . . about you, you know. . .nothing major."

Daniel smiled slightly and swung his legs over the side of the cot, gripping the side tightly as he convinced himself that it was okay to stand. He did so, feeling shaky for a moment, then followed his friend out to the hall. They were right outside when a yell stopped them. "Daniel! Hold up!"

Both men turned to see Stan Greyson running to him. The man skidded to a stop, panting. Jack tucked his hands into his pockets and waited, and Daniel noticed with mild amusement that he wasn't leaving. Nosy bastard.

"I heard you were at the lift. . .the elevator. . .when it exploded." He hunched over slightly, still trying to regain his breath.

Daniel frowned. "You okay?"

"Slight asthma, no biggie." He straightened and tried to take some deep breaths, then finally succumbed to the use of his inhaler. The action reminded Daniel of Robert Rothman, who usually had to take a hit on his inhaler after leaving everyone in the dust in his beloved marathons. Come to think of it, there were a lot of things about this guy that reminded him of Rothman. Maybe that was why he was drawn to him, it wasn't like they had much of a history back in school. He needed to remedy that. Stan's breathing calmed and he continued. "Glad to see you're okay."

"I'm. . .fine. . .thank you." Daniel was touched by the concern and wondered if the man had run all the way from, wherever, just to ask him that. He had been out of the infirmary for a while, but it was possible the list of injuries wasn't revealed for some time. Hell, seemed he was always on that list. It wasn't an injury roster, it was a list of Daniel's latest companions.

"Good. I'm glad." He smiled. "Well, I'll be about my work then. See you later, then? Maybe we can hook up for a drink."

"Sure." Daniel grinned.

"Good. Colonel." He gave Jack a nod and continued down the hall.

Jack pointed after him. "Now THAT guy gives me the creeps."

"He's just lonely, Jack. He's relatively new here, no friends. And you know how hard it can be to fit into this place."

"Maybe. I still say he's creepy."

"Of course he is." Daniel said as they resumed their trek to the commissary. "He's smart, he's asthmatic, he carries books around with him, he's skinny, he's clumsy. . ."

"Okay, okay, I get the point," Jack scoffed. "STILL say he's creepy."

Daniel just smiled and pushed the door open. The commissary was packed, which was unusual for the time of morning, but the lock down invited it. They waited for their coffee and grabbed a plate of food before seeking out Carter at the table they frequented. She looked up bleary-eyed as they sat across from her.

"Well, you look like shit," Jack muttered.

"Thanks, sir." Sam quipped. She pushed around her oatmeal.

Daniel cut into his pancakes and raised a large chunk to his mouth, then paused. He was used to seeing Sam on the brink of collapse after a hard night's work, but this was different. "You okay?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, you don't look okay. Did you sleep at all?"

"No." Sam stifled a yawn. "Been going over the analysis. I think your theory is holding out."

"What theory?" Jack asked.

"I'll let Daniel tell you."

He was not appeased. "Oh, must you?" he asked sarcastically.

She was tempted, but talking would refocus her mind. "Fine. The readings of the explosion's energy surge are off the scale. It should have caused more damage than it did. By my latest reasoning, there shouldn't be anything left but maybe half the mountain, and that's without full potency."

"So it malfunctioned." Jack said, spooning fruit loops into his mouth.

"Very much so. At full intensity it would take out the state, and possibly half the US."

"Excuse me?" He chewed as Daniel turned to him.

"You know, for once I'd like to see you eat something different," Daniel mumbled. Jack responded by thrusting another spoonful into his mouth and chewing exaggeratedly. Daniel sighed and turned back to Sam. "So the readings pan out?"

"I have no doubt of it. Why it didn't take out the entire station, I've no idea."

"Well, that's reassuring," Jack muttered. "So, someone feel like telling me exactly what's going on? No need, I'm just your CO and all."

"Sorry, sir." She stifled another yawn and poked at her bowl.

Jack snatched the spoon from her. "Forget it. I'll suffer through the lecture," he glanced at Daniel who looked affronted, "go to bed. You've thought yourself into a corner. Can't do anything else right now, so rest. I'll pull the info from Daniel," he cast another wary eye in the young man's direction, "and hope I survive the ordeal."

"Sir. . ."

"That's an order, Major. Now don't make me put you to bed myself."

Sam stood. "Wouldn't dream of it, sir." She picked up her bowl and walked off.

Daniel chewed his lips and stared at the pancake on his fork. "You know. . ."

"Shut up and eat."

He looked startled. "I thought you wanted an explanation?"

"Eat first. I'm not nearly awake enough."

"You were awake enough to hear it from Sam."

"Says who?"

"You asked!"

"Eat." The younger man frowned and looked at Jack, then pointedly shoved the fork full into his mouth. Jack toyed with his cereal, then eyed his friend. "Sure you're okay?"

"Thought you said to shut up and eat."

"I can still talk."

"But how am I supposed to answer?"

"Just hush. And listen." Jack pointed at Daniel with his spoon. "You remember that artifact that you brought back from PX4112? The one you just had to have, the one you just had to study?"

Daniel's eyes widened in surprise, and he decided to played along. "Sure. It was an exact duplicate of the. . ."

"Ah-ah! I'm talking." Jack held up his hand. "You remember that it was considered volatile and had to be locked away after you were found unconscious in your office?"

"Of course."

His brows quirked questioningly. "Think it's still there?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Cause we looked already. It's gone."

"_What_?"

Daniel's fork clattered on the plate. "Jack, what on earth made you think of that? It took us forever to come up with that!"

Jack wasn't about to mention how that scene kept playing in his mind, how scared he'd been seeing Daniel unconscious that day, knowing radiation was the cause. It wasn't something he could put out of his mind easily, not after. . ."Now you know I'm not up on all this sciencey stuff, but I think it registered the same energy output when we locked it away that the explosive had. We were supposed to return it to the planet, then the labs wanted it, then all that crap with the Unas started, then you had to go and get yourself kidnaped in some jungle. . ."

"Yeah, and I suppose you blame me for that."

"Of course!" Jack thrust another spoonful into his mouth.

"Of course. If that artifact is the cause, will you blame me for the explosion as well?"

Jack leaned in. "Daniel, I would love to." He tossed the spoon into his empty bowl.

Daniel grinned. "Jaaaaack, you've been studying! You launched your own investigation! I'm impressed!"

"The military doesn't give birds to idiots, Danny-boy. We just give them back"

Daniel thought about that, and smiled. Then he sobered and took a deep breath. "Jack, if this is the cause. . .I mean. . ." he closed his eyes in dread, "there's something I should tell you."


	5. Chapter 5

My apologies for the delay, RL has been kicking me around a bit.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Have you gone completely insane?" It was hard to tell if Hammond's tone was pure anger or disbelief. "You mean to tell me you have another one of these things that you snuck into the SGC?"

Daniel cringed inwardly, outwardly he put on his best scientific demeanor and prepared for battle. "It's in my office, right now. I – actually I brought two back with me." He clamped his lips shut and nervously toyed with his ink pen behind his back.

"Are you certain this is, or was, the cause of the explosion?"

"Well, it's the same energy output, plus the fact that the one in question is missing seems to point to that," Daniel responded dubiously, "although I do wonder if there isn't something else down there that could cause this, something we've overlooked. . ."

"Meaning since you were the one that brought it back, you don't want to feel any remorse about what happened." Jack turned to the General. "Sir, we believe for whatever reason this object blew while in transport. Now a member of Stargate personnel was in that storage room approximately ten minutes before the explosion, and a box was signed out."

"Doctor Jackson, I assume you have no knowledge of this, or who would take it."

"Lt. Donna Mason signed for it, and she was in the elevator."

"Lt. Mason?" Hammond sighed. "You don't know why she signed it out?"

"Sam's calling the labs at CERL to see if anyone there has requested it."

Hammond wasn't happy. "Are there any more lurking around that I need to know about, I mean, other than the one you snuck into your office?"

"No, sir," Jack answered firmly while sending Daniel a pointed look, "he assured me when he told me, which, incidentally, was _just_ before we came in here, that this is the last." He shook his head. "You know, and if I may, sir," Jack turned to Daniel, "I just don't get you sometimes. What the hell were you thinking, hiding this one from us?"

"Jack, not now. . ." Daniel gritted.

"Yes, now! I think the General would like an explanation as well!"

"At the time I didn't think it would. . ."

"At the time? Are you in a different zone, a 'Hi, I'm do-no-wrong Daniel, the sun shines out my ass so I'll do as I please' zone? It was a breach of trust and a breach of direct orders!"

"Jack, let's not go through this again. . ."

"Oh, I think we will! You think that because you aren't military personnel that the rules don't apply? You think that your academics overrule everything because you disapprove of military action?"

Daniel's face was tight with tension. "You know that's not true."

"The hell it isn't!"

"The hell it is!" Daniel flung his pen to the table; it bounced to the floor. "God, Jack, you would think that after all we've been through you'd know me better than that! After everything that has happened, after all the times I saved your ass! What about the number of times I fired that weapon in the name of what the military thought was right, even if I didn't? Don't you think I've grown a little beyond the innocent, naive archaeologist that first passed through that gate? After seven years don't you think I've grown up just a little? I kept that artifact, yes, and I went behind your back to do it, but only because I had no time to study it before you jumped to a conclusion and locked it away! You assumed it was the cause of my collapse when it wasn't, well, we know what caused it and what not to do. . ."

"It was dangerous, Daniel. . ."

"The majority of the SGC handles dangerous materials all the time, Jack! Myself included! What makes this so different?"

"You went behind my back! You jeopardized the safety and security of the base, not to mention the consequences in regards to national security!"

"Wh -this has nothing to do with national security!"

"This has everything to do with national security, Daniel! All it takes is one slip up, one little 'oh by the way I have another one of those' for someone to get wind of it and start trading it with god knows who for god knows what! Why did Lt Mason have it?"

"I don't know."

"What?"

"I said I don't know!"

"Exactly. And now we'll never know, will we? Because it blew up. It could have blown up in your fuckin' office, Daniel!"

He was shaking his head vigorously. "It needs the introduction of a certain chemical substance to stimulate. . ."

"Which either Lt. Mason had, or it doesn't need it after all, so what? Go out on a limb? Take a chance?"

"If you had let me study it under guarded conditions, I could have deciphered the writings and found out exactly what it was" he gave his head a shake, ". . .is. . ."

"It's a weapon Daniel, you know, the things that go boom that you hate? THAT'S what you're studying!"

"We don't know that!"

"What else could it be?"

"I don't know! You never gave me a chance to study it!" Daniel hesitated, then rounded on him in frustration. "Dammit, I this was close, but you wouldn't listen to me. You filed it away as some piece of crap because the military has no respect for my work. Do you have any idea how many times that happens to me, how-how often I come so close to finding the information I need only to be told that my time is up, or it doesn't matter? Well? Guess what? If it is a weapon, it's a weapon we can't use unless I can decipher what's written on the casing! And I can't do that unless I can see the damn object!"

Jack was silent for a moment, catching his breath, then responded in a quieter tone, "No wonder you never asked about it again. I expected you to tear the damn doors down trying to get back at it. I just assumed you agreed with me. Should've seen the signs."

"I'm glad you didn't." Daniel turned his back, then suddenly remembered who was in the room. He raised an angry yet cautious face to General Hammond.

"Now that that's over," Hammond said calmly, "would somebody like to give me a idea as to what we should do with this second object?"

"I'll take it back to the planet, sir," Daniel said quietly, glaring at Jack. "With your permission."

"I think that's exactly what you should do, Dr. Jackson. Immediately. Dismissed."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He wasn't working. He wasn't even staring off into space. He was fuming, still, and couldn't seem to get the anger out of his system. He should resign. Go find that dream dig. The hell with all of this. Daniel growled at the book before him and forced himself to read the sentence he had been eyeing for the past fifteen minutes, a sentence that made no sense even to a linguist because he couldn't focus on it.

"Daniel?" Stan cautiously knocked on the half open door and waited for a greeting.

Daniel looked up, then peered over the rim of his large frames. A distraction. This could be good. "Stan? Come on in."

Stan smiled and walked in, looking around at the artifacts and books that sat wedged on the shelves. "You busy?"

"You serious?"

Stan laughed nervously. "That's right, I've heard about your habits."

Daniel swung around with a look of puzzlement. "What have you heard?"

"That you don't eat, don't sleep, walk around with your nose in a book, which I've witnessed myself, I might add. . ."

"I was preparing for the briefing. I had finally found notes on the Edurans of the Arcanic tribes and thought it relevant. . ."

"To risk your life by crossing the busiest junction of the SGC without raising your head. That's commitment, mate."

Daniel smirked. "Either way, the rumors are greatly exaggerated. I'm not as much of an enigma as people make me out to be."

"You were in school." Stan pulled up a chair. "No one could get near you."

"I was busy."

"If you want to call it that, sure. I call it being reclusive."

Daniel glanced at him, then turned his eye back to the annoying sentence. "You act like that offends you."

"Well it did. Then. Sort of. I mean, you were so damn smart, you know? The professors had nothing on you, you could lecture them right out of the hall."

"Which they appreciated, I'm sure," Daniel chuckled.

"No, no, you were impressive. I was envious."

"And now?"

"Now I wouldn't take on your workload for all the crumpets in England." Stan slapped a folder onto Daniel's desk. "Take a look. I found it in one of my boxes, I think it belongs to you."

"Sure." Daniel cocked his head to the side, eying the label. "Wonder how you got it?"

"Who knows. But. . . you may want to look at it." Daniel looked up at the sudden serious tone. Stan leaned his elbow on the desk, and waited.

Daniel pulled the folder to him opening it quickly. He pulled out several photos. "What is this? Okay, this is. . ." he frowned. "Wait. This is me."

"Yes."

"I mean, this is my house! And me leaving for work. . ."

"Yes."

"I don't understand." He looked up at Stan, then back at the pictures.

"I thought you might want to see them before I told the General."

"General? No!" The sudden negative took Stan by surprise, especially when Daniel started cramming the photos back into the folder. "No. It's just pictures."

"Daniel," Stan leaned in, "you're being followed."

"Just a prank. No need to get the whole SGC involved."

"Who said anything about the whole SGC?"

"Stan, look, I've got a lot going on, okay? The last thing I need is to show my face to the general right now." He sighed and tossed the folder back onto the desk.

"What's up?" Stan frowned and pulled up a chair.

Daniel measured him up, and gave in. "I had to return this artifact I was trying to study. Just. . . pissed me off."

"Wait, that one from PX4112? The one you've been sweating over?"

Daniel nodded, remembering his short conversations with Stan about the object when constant study left him nothing but frustrated. "Yeah. I still don't understand what it was. Guess I never will."

"You're interested because you think the one in storage caused the explosion."

Daniel turned. "Where did you hear that?"

"This place isn't exactly top secret within the walls, mate. People hear things."

"Oh, that's just wonderful." Daniel sighed and slumped.

Stan picked up a piece of paper and looked it over. "So, was this an artifact or a weapon?"

Daniel sighed. "Old weapons are artifacts, I mean, by the definition of the word, an artifact is something that. . ."

"Is representative of a past time and culture, yes, but what I'm asking is; what was its purpose?"

"I'm not convinced it was a weapon. I'd been trying to decipher the scrawls on the casing to see if there was a clue, some message or something to give me a clue as to what we were dealing with."

Stan grinned. "It came with instructions? 'Pull here and run like hell'?"

Daniel had to laugh as he punched the keypad. "It came with something. The scrawls were on the surrounding statues and temples. But I don't think it was instructions. For all I know it was a religious relic, a healing device or something. Very powerful." There was a knock on the door, and it opened slightly.

Jack stuck his head in. "Daniel?"

Oh, not now. Not Jack. His head dipped down to hide in his hands. "Yeah?"

"Can I talk with you out here please?"

"Jack, I really am. . ."

"It'll just take a moment."

He half expected Jack to make it a direct order, but the older man just stood patiently in the doorway. Daniel leaned in close to Stan, using his body to block his hiding the pictures underneath a file folder. "Look, don't say anything, let me deal with this, okay?"

"It might slip out."

"Well shove it back in."

"You sure?" Stan asked hesitantly.

"I'm sure." Daniel's reply was as decisive as his steps as he walked into the hall. He straightened and faced Jack. "What can I do for you, Jack?"

Jack pulled the door almost closed and leveled a stern look at the younger man. "I'm not going to pretend I'm not pissed off at you, 'cause I am, and I have every right to be. Let me finish. . ." he held up a finger as Daniel opened his mouth to speak, "that doesn't mean I can't be more. . .courteous. . .in the future, about what you want. But I want you to remember that you triggered that thing."

"Jack, my point was that once we knew what triggered it, it was avoidable. With the right precautions I could have studied it longer. . .why was it locked away? I mean if everyone thought it was so dangerous, then why was it kept here at the SGC?"

Jack opened his mouth, then shut it and frowned. "You know. . .I don't know."

"It could've been going back to the lab when it blew up."

"Maybe," Jack sighed. "All I'm saying is yes, you do get gypped, and I'll try and keep that from happening quite so much from now on, okay?" He ran his hand through his hair. "Look, let's get something to eat, grab a beer. Blow this joint."

"Jack, I still have a lot of – okay. But let's invite Stan, he doesn't get out much."

"And you do?"

"No choice." Daniel opened the door, hesitated, then quickly walked to the computer. "Stan, wh. . .what are you doing?"

Stan looked up from the information on the screen. "I'm sorry, the screen was up, I was just passing time, waiting for you. You were talking about the artifact, remember?"

"Crap." Daniel quickly leaned forward and cleared the screen. "I mean, there was nothing really important there. . .I probably was pulling that up, we were talking about it. . .no, don't worry about it. Nothing there you don't already know."

"Except for just how powerful that thing is." Stan shook his head and turned in the chair. "Why didn't it blow up the mountain?"

"Sam's asking the same question. Apparently it needs a different trigger to cause an explosion of that magnitude."

"Look, I'm sorry, I'm not one to pry. . ."

"No, forget it. Really. No big deal. Jack and I were going out, you want to come?"

"There a place around here with darts?"

Jack grinned evilly. "Oh, yeah!"


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks to Goo...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Knew I should have turned you down." Daniel's lips thinned as he aimed with careful concentration, then tossed the dart toward that annoying red center that wouldn't stop moving. It landed on the rim.

Jack snorted and caught Daniel's arm as he stumbled. "All I said was it should be investigated."

"Investigated my ass." Daniel pointed an unsteady finger at Stan. "I should have left YOU at the SGC. Just where did you hide those pictures anyway?"

"I have very big pockets."

"Bastard."

"Hey, you can't blame a guy for being concerned," Stan said, feigning hurt and placing a hand to his chest.

"You realize I can't trust you now." As usual, the beer was making Daniel very fluent in his gestures. He waved his arms, hitting Jack in the chest. "How can you do that? Sorry."

"Whoa, Daniel, ease up, huh? He was right to say something and you know it." Jack pulled at his friend's arm and plopped him into the nearest chair while taking his beer from him. "Talk about not being able to hold your drink."

"Jack. . ."

"No, Daniel, I want you to level with me. I'm going to sacrifice a game of darts, a game which I'm winning, by the way, so you better talk." He sat opposite his friend and eyed him steadily. "Has anyone threatened you? Watched you a little too closely, followed you around the base, anything like that?"

"Only Stan here, and he's harmless." Daniel rolled his eyes at Jack's pointed glance. "Oh, for Pete's sake, we went to the same college. You know he's here as an observer for the government, whatever new organization they've managed to form. Like we don't have enough."

"I know about Stan, thank you. I wasn't implying Stan. I wasn't implying you, was I?" Jack snapped his attention to the man who was lounging in the corner chair with boots propped on an abandoned table.

"Doesn't matter to me if you were, to be true. I've no idea what's going on."

"Why were his pictures in your box?"

"No clue. Stan Greyson, Dan Jackson, think the person who delivered it could have misheard the name?"

"Daniel never goes by 'Dan' around here."

"And so goes my theory, right out the east window." Stan raised the bottle to his lips.

"I still say it's a prank," Daniel muttered. "Probably one of those marines. They love to get my goat."

"They have an odd way of doing it." Jack shook his head. "Maybe you should stay at the base until we figure this out."

"Jack, the jail sentence was just lifted. Besides, what good would that do? You want Teal'c to babysit? Forget it."

Stan thought about it. "Actually, you've been talking about all that work you have to catch up on. Don't pretend like you aren't working late at night. I can help." He shrugged. "It would be someone with you, and legit."

Daniel exhaled sharply. "Fine. If nothing else it'll get you two off my back." He reached for his bottle and glared at Jack as he held onto it tightly.

"Uh-uh. You've already lost your ability to rationalize. Enough."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jack had relayed the information, and hoped that the meeting that was being called would shed light on the matter. He didn't like the idea of Daniel being followed. Stan was true to his word, staying by the man's side during all hours. He would glance in on them before leaving, and often wondered just what they were discussing with such fervor. Daniel was ecstatic to have someone who spoke his language, plus a few others. Complain as he would, Jack knew his young friend was enjoying the company.

"Colonel, Major, thanks for coming. Have a seat." The General pulled his own chair to the table, noticing Carter's glance to the outer hall.

"Sir, what about Teal'c and Daniel?"

"Major, this is a rather delicate matter. I brought in the two of you for a special reason."

Jack cut his gaze over to Sam as he sat. "You know, it's a security thing." But if this was about Daniel, why wasn't he here?

"You both know Major Fogarty from Internal Security."

"See?"

Hammond gave Jack an impatient glance. "Colonel, Major, you are aware that the explosion incident is being investigated above our level?"

"That's good to know, sir," Jack said.

"I'm afraid we may have information that points to this being a much larger problem than just misplaced material." Hammond turned to the security chief. "Major?"

"Sirs, Ma'am." Major Fogarty stepped forward. He put Jack in mind of a retired football player, one of those mama's boys from the south that started tossing pigskin as soon as he left the womb. He didn't like the man. "As you know, the Pentagon keeps a close eye on the Stargate program. It's a major security hot point."

"We had noticed," Jack muttered.

"And it's not just the gate itself. I was put on alert that we may have a problem domestically. Here, on Earth, that is."

"The Pentagon looking into housewife issues now, Fogerty?" Jack asked patiently.

Fogerty wasn't phased. "I've had some information cross my desk that suggests that we may have an issue with our neighbors to the East."

"And this neighbor would be. . ."

"Well, Colonel, I'm sure you can imagine which of our easterly neighbors would be a prime worry to a place like this."

"Let's see. . .all of them? For god's sake, will you get to the point?"

"Colonel!"

"Sorry General, I just want to know if this quarterback's gonna play ball or not!"

"This is sensitive material. . ." Fogerty continued.

"I'll give you sensitive material," Jack said, his voice painfully low and sharp, "We just had several people die in an explosion that shouldn't have happened. This means we have a rather important incident on our hands and no time for your pussyfooting bureaucratic bullshit, so if you have some information for us then spill it! Otherwise we have work to do!"

"Colonel!"

"I'm sorry!" Jack's eyes widened slightly and he found he was standing. He took a deep breath and sat, pulling the water glass closer to him. "I'm sorry."

"Major, we're understandably upset. Please continue, but I agree with Colonel O'Neill. Cut to the chase."

Fogerty sat and folded his large hands in front of him, giving O'Neill an evil eye. "What I'm saying is, it looks like we may have an agent for a foreign power working here at the SGC."

Sam straightened. "Excuse me?"

"I'm saying we may have a mole."

"We know what you're saying, Major," Hammond said curtly, "and quite frankly I'm not sure what to think of it. These are serious charges."

"I'm aware of that, sir. And as we've discussed before, I'm fully aware of the potential outcome and the severity of these charges, and I wouldn't be making them if I didn't believe it to be true."

Sam clasped her hands tightly before resting them on the tabletop. "What makes you think there's a mole?"

"Ma'am, there's more than just the DOD looking into this. I'm in receipt of some important information from sister agencies which strongly support some of these conclusions."

"Strongly support _some_ of these conclusions? What conclusions? What sister agencies? Cut the political jargon and give us something to work with here!" Jack's patience was wearing thin once again.

Hammond leaned in. "Major, you've made these assertions to me once before, and I would like to hear more myself."

"I really don't have the leeway to give you this. . ."

"Major, I have three stars that say you do. Now." He leaned forward testily. "If you didn't have relevant information, you wouldn't be here."

"FBI," Fogerty said gruffly. "CIA. And it's under the table, it isn't substantiated. They're telling me as a courtesy."

"And you're telling us as a courtesy?" Jack countered.

"I'm telling you they don't give me any fuckin' leg to stand on! Sir." Fogerty turned to Sam. "Begging your pardon, ma'am. Look, I don't have anything hard core. I've got rumors. But I've got a lot of rumors, you know what I mean?"

"Fogerty. . ."

Fogerty nodded. "Fine. CIA says we got neighbors that want to know about the Stargate. FBI says we got a Chinese physicist, three archaeologists, and two spy masters on our soil along with some other guy they can't ID, all situated in Pueblo, Colorado. They also say they got suspicious movements from one of your people, someone eyeballed a guy that looks a lot like a joker we brought on board three months ago, name of Stan Greyson." That got Jack's attention, and Fogerty noticed. "Uh-huh. That enough rumor to sound like something to you, Colonel, or are you with the General that I see shadows in the crapper every night?"

Sam leaned forward. "So, are you saying Greyson is meeting with Chinese intelligence relaying information about the Stargate?"

"Because that's what it sounds like you're saying," Jack interceded.

"I'm saying, people who know some people who get paid by Uncle Sam saw some guy they think is Greyson walk into a mall that's not his regular spot with some folks who we know damn well are red Chinese bad guys with a capital B."

"They _think_ is Greyson," Jack said hotly. "Come on, there are dozens of skinny, geeky scientist types around here, and god knows I have a hard enough time telling them apart in the halls! Hell, it could have been the druggist down the street! You got proof?" Fogerty whipped out a blurred bank camera photo of a man. Jack scoffed. "Well that's it, boys and girls, we can go home. I'm convinced."

Fogerty pulled out several more photos, one a half shot of a licence plate on a car that resembled Greyson's, another a shot of a man in a restaurant window, the image distorted in the glare. Jack nodded.

"Oh yeah, that's concrete evidence right there."

"As concrete as my Aunt Sadie's Jello salad."

"I've never had your aunt's Jello salad, Fogerty." Jack slapped the photos on the tabletop. "I mean, come on. I'd be more convinced by a crayon drawing from a blind child."

"We looked at his bank accounts, but if he's taking cash he's hiding it damn well. He's not a moron, that's for sure. No new car, no new clothes, no new broads. . ."

"That's because he's a GEEK!" Jack turned from the Major. "Give me a break," he muttered as Sam cleared her throat.

"So why's he doing it? IF he's doing it."

"That we don't know yet, Major. We have several working theories. We know his grants went south about four years ago due to budget cuts. Hit the retail shops while looking for work."

"I want to know what you've got against this guy," Jack cut in. "These pictures are crap. Now there has to be a reason you're trying to pin this on Greyson, some reason other than flimsy photography."

"And I'm saying this is what we got. The circumstances fit. The reasoning fits. Given the chance we can catch him in the act."

"You've done your homework, Major," Hammond said, "but it's circumstantial. This won't hold up in court."

"General. . ."

"Your photos are blurry, the license plate is obscured, and as you said earlier, not all of your conclusions are supported. Hell, these photos don't support anything!"

"Sir. . ."

"You have my permission to set up surveillance on the base. Only."

"Sir, we're talking security at a US Military Government base. . ." Fogerty was heated.

"And I'm telling you to step up security! Your accusations point to treason, and I'm not willing to risk a man's freedom on evidence such as this. You'll have to bring me more."

"Sir. . ."

"More, Major. And I expect reports daily. I want to know who goes where, why, and long they've been there."

Fogerty stiffened, and realized he had to accept the limitations as a won battle. "Yes, sir."

"Dismissed." Hammond stood and checked. "Colonel, can I speak to you privately?" He waited until the room cleared, then gestured for O'Neill to take the seat closest to him.

Jack sighed. "Look, if it's about my comments to Fogerty. . ."

"Out of line, but understandable. I'm concerned."

"You mean those pictures of Daniel."

"It could be that the CIA is monitoring the activity of any and all members who have been in contact with Greyson."

"Then how did Stan get the pictures?" Jack asked.

"Where did he say they were?"

"He says he found them in his inbox, and I don't mean in his computer. I mean on his desk, where he keeps his paperwork. He was wondering why he had them and not Daniel." Jack leaned forward. "You think someone is trying to scare Stan, or are they trying to distract him?"

"By showing they're tailing someone else?"

"Maybe."

"I don't know. That seems too transparent, even for our government." Hammond leaned back. "Another option is that Dr. Jackson is being tailed by these men that Fogerty is watching."

"At least his pictures are clearer. CIA should get a better camera. Chinese." He looked up. "I guess under the circumstance we should turn the pictures over."

"I think so."

"Which means Daniel will have to go in for questioning."

"More than likely."

"Lovely." Jack sighed and slapped the new photos onto the table. "What a wonderful week this is turning out to be."


	7. Chapter 7

"Hey, Stan?" Daniel walked into the small room that served as Stan's office, little more than a spare closet. "Got a minute?"

"Sure." Stan looked up from his work and leaned back in his chair. "What's up?"

"Take a look at these," Daniel passed some papers to him, "and tell me what you think."

Stan flipped though the sheets, then hesitated. He pulled the adjustable lamp closer and angled the page in its glare. "Where'd you get this?"

Daniel perched himself on the side of the desk. "It's from the planet where I returned the artifact. These are the scrawls. I've put them through imaging techniques and run scans trying to clear the images on the stonework. Now the markings are a little different on the artifact, and half obscured. There was no way to clear it up, but I know why I was having such trouble. Can't believe I didn't think of it before."

Stan turned the paper. "It's just lines. Lots of lines, but. . .wait. Yeah." He looked up with a smile. "Ogham, that's what it looks like."

"See, I thought that Celtic background would come in handy. One of the oldest known written languages on Earth, found on another planet."

"That's. . .amazing! Shit!" Stan stood and leaned towards the lamp, holding the paper right underneath. "I can see how you missed it, there's no form or flow to this, not like we're familiar with. . .you been able to work out a system?"

"Not yet." Daniel sighed and folded his arms. "I wanted to see what you could do with it."

Stan merely nodded. "Do you think you can get a message from this if we break the code?"

"At this point I'm hoping to break enough of the code to know that it actually says something. Whether we can get the entire message, I don't know. Why don't you take a crack at it? I have a copy at my office, you keep this one."

"Yeah, sure, I'll do that." Stan studied the paper for another moment, then quickly glanced at his watch. "Damn. I have an appointment, I forgot, sh – , I'm going to be late. Think a taxi will come up here?"

"You kidding? What kind of appointment?"

"Just have to meet some guys. Only take a half hour or so."

"Why don't I drive you? I could use the break."

Stan was pulling on his jacket. "Well, to be honest that would be ideal. Sure you don't mind?"

"Nah." Daniel grinned. "I can drop you off and grab a couple of things for the house, I'm about out of food. Time to clock out anyway, and for once I plan on doing that on time."

"Looking forward to the weekend, huh?"

"I never have a proper weekend. Besides, tomorrow I have to help Jack with his truck."

Stan followed Daniel into the hall. "What's wrong with Big Bertha?"

Daniel chuckled. "Big Bertha?"

"Oh, come on. Double deckers have nothing on that monstrosity."

"Well, what's wrong with it is that it's dirty."

Stan paused. "You have to help him wash his truck?"

"I don't have to, I just do. And like you said, it's a big truck." Daniel fumbled for his card and swiped it. "Just let me get my keys and we'll go."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jack and Daniel stood outside Jack's home, both in dingy clothes, and both scrubbing the hell out of Jack's truck. "Why don't you use a car wash like ordinary people?" Daniel flicked suds from his arm.

"Put my baby through a car wash? You lost your mind? This is the only proper way to clean a vehicle." He wrung out his cloth. "It shows love and respect. It is attention to detail and heartfelt devotion toward my only mode of transportation, which, by the way, has never let me down since I started hand washing."

"It isn't your only mode of transportation, and I can't believe you do this every week," Daniel grunted as he bent over to soap up his sponge.

"Really I just wanted to see you in a wet T-shirt."

"Funny."

"And your pants are sliding."

Daniel gave them a jerk as he stood, glaring at Jack. "Don't know why I tolerate you."

"Actually I wanted to ask you something, and didn't want roaming ears to hear."

"Look, if this is about what I said to Carol. . ."

"Wha'dya say to Carol?"

Daniel stiffened. "Nothing."

"Right." Jack started on the windshield. "How long have you known Stan?"

"Greyson? I don't know, few months. I mean we went to the University together, had a few classes together, and then he transferred back home to England because he had to take care of his dad. When he passed away, Stan returned to the States."

"His file says he was born in New York."

"He was. His father was transferred out. Most of his childhood and adolescence was spent in England."

"What's his fascination with the States, then? Why didn't he go work for the queen?"

Daniel just shrugged as he leaned forward to soap up the hood.

"I take it you two lost touch?"

"Me and the queen?"

Jack smirked.

"Never were in touch, really. I kept up with him through acquaintances until the government ripped my life away."

"And gave you a rewarding, exciting, fresh life in place of a dull, academic classroom. My heart bleeds." He grabbed the hose and sprayed the suds from the front window. "So you don't know much about him, do you?" he yelled over the stream.

Daniel dodged the spray and regarded his friend. "Jack, what are you asking me?"

"How well you know him."

"No, what are you _asking_ me?"

"I'm asking how well you know the man, Daniel. That's all."

Daniel paused. "You're investigating him. You think he has something to do with that explosion, don't you? Jack, the man was way down the hall, and he came from the side hall, not the area where the elevators are."

"Good."

"So. . .what are you saying?"

"I'm not saying anything, Daniel. I just asked a question."

"Of course you did." Daniel tossed his sponge into the bucket and snatched at the towel that hung over a chair. He rubbed at his arms angrily.

"Look, I didn't mean. . ."

"If you investigate Stan, then you may as well investigate me too," Daniel huffed and walked into the garage. Jack threw down the hose and turned off the water, and followed him, snatching another towel on the way. He found Daniel standing beside the small refrigerator unit with a bottled water.

"Look. I asked a simple question, nothing I haven't asked anyone else in that area at that time."

"What, you asking if they know Stan well?"

"I'm questioning everyone about everything, Daniel! The only one I haven't questioned yet is you, so what, you want the O'Neill interrogation now or later?"

"You. . .wait, you think I had something to do with it?"

"Oh for the love of god. . ."

Daniel pinched the bottle between his thumb and forefinger. "Well?"

Jack sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "You two have been pretty chummy lately."

"Jealous?"

"What?"

"Nothing. We just get on well. There's no secret thing."

"Right. Shoot straight with me?"

"You think there's a secret thing, don't you?"

"Christ, Daniel. . ."

"Okay, okay!" Daniel watched his friend for a few moments, then sat with his back against the refrigerator door.

"Okay. We've been checking a lot of background, not just on Stan, but. . .you never told me about your work before the SGC."

Daniel stared. "You've seen my file, it's there."

"Yeah, but the process isn't."

"Process?"

"Of an archaeologist."

Daniel smiled. "You inhaled gas fumes, right? What, was your truck running and I didn't know it?"

"Funny." Jack echoed Daniel's earlier tone. "Really though, what did you do?"

"I studied. Applied for grants. Went on digs. Studied some more. Got really dirty." He took another drink.

"Your grants ever cut?"

"Sure. Happens to all of us. Can't tell you how many cuts I went though. You just plow on and keep looking for funding."

"What if you can't find it?"

"I dunno. You keep looking. It never occurred to me that I wouldn't get money for my research, it was just a matter of being in the right place at the right time and knowing where to look."

"Isn't there some kind of waiting list for this?"

"In some fields, yes. In archaeology, not so much, but there is a list." He shrugged. "It helps to know people."

"Who do you know?" Jack found himself more interested than he thought he would be.

"Believe it or not I tossed around my grandfather's name a few times."

"Nick?" Jack smiled slightly and leaned against the rough garage wall. "I thought everyone thought he was nuts?"

"They did. But he had a few friends, and they helped me get started. Think a lot of it had to do with guilt. What. . .happened to my parents was pretty well known in the archaeological community. Between that and Nick, I think some of the budgeting on my behalf was purely sympathetic."

"Get much?"

"For my own stuff? I didn't need much. Spent a lot of time as an associate on digs, I rarely headed an expedition myself." His expression had turned inwards, then he came back with a snap. "Seriously Jack, why the interest?"

Jack took a seat near him. "Don't know. Been thinking a lot. You know Donna Mason had an interest in archaeology?"

"No way," Daniel responded softly.

"Yep. It was listed as an interest in her personnel file. Funny what you find when you search their file." He looked at Daniel. "Rather impersonal way to get to know someone."

"You can't know everything about everyone at the SGC."

Sigh. "No, I guess not. Not a bad notion though. "

"Wonder why she never talked to me about it?"

"She had a crush on you."

"What?"

"You heard."

"Oh god." Daniel shook his head and smiled in disbelief.

"Hand me a water."

Daniel shifted and opened the door, then tossed a bottle to Jack. "Wonder why she didn't pursue it? Archaeology, not the crush."

"Maybe she was going to."

"I can think of worse professions." Daniel grinned around his bottle. "I never thought of doing anything different. People used to talk about how much I learned, but they didn't realize that this was all I knew. Nick, my parents, it didn't take that much studying in school. I grew up as an archaeologist, especially after my parents died."

"You think it was a way to keep close to them?"

Daniel started to peel at the label. "You bet it was," he said softly.

Jack nodded and let a small respectful silence hang in the air. It was the first time Daniel had spoken openly about his past, and he was reluctant to keep pressing. But he did. "So, after you had all these grants and the community knowing about your parents and all. . ."

". . .oh yeah, they're legends for the wrong reason now. . ."

"Did it hurt when everyone refused your theory?"

Daniel snorted. "You assume I expected everyone to believe me."

"Didn't you?"

"I had a theory. A damn good one. But theory isn't proof, which tends to drive the more archaic half of the scientific community away. If you can't pull them in with that first sentence, you've lost them, they can't waste time with you. That's why so many walked out on me. Theories are usually fine as long as they make some sort of scientific sense. Mine reached into the realm, not of impossibility, but improbability. In their eyes, there was nothing solid at all to go on. Of course I didn't expect them to believe me."

"What made you pursue it?" Jack asked quietly.

Daniel thought for a moment. "_I_ believed it," he responded in a low voice. "Inner belief is the only thing a scientist has to go on the majority of the time. Strip that away and you have nothing."

"So. . .you're saying that all science is, is a matter of faith?"

Daniel grinned. "Ironic, isn't it? The one thing that supposedly disavows faith and relies purely on facts. Thing is, it's the faith that gets you those facts." He smiled again. "I think science isn't a matter of proven theories, it's a matter of proven faith. Nice to know, huh?"

Jack nodded thoughtfully while staring at his own bottle. A glance at his friend showed him to be in that far away place where only Daniel was allowed to go. He picked up his sponge and threw it at his friend, and he jolted from his pondering. "Come on, oh scholarly one. Still got the bed of the truck to do."


	8. Chapter 8

Jack hated Mondays. He hated them with a passion, even if he did enjoy his job, even if he didn't have proper weekends. He could have a week scheduled where Monday was, to all intents and purposes, Friday, and still hate it. It was probably because of the way the word sounded. Monday. Mundane. So drawn down and boring. It sounded droopy. Nevertheless, it was Monday, and he was on his way to yet another meeting. Damn these meetings. He was ready to go offworld, complain about the flora, meet the locals and avert yet another disaster. All of the off world teams were now home, and one or two had been sent back through since, but for the most part gate travel was still cut off. Hammond knew he couldn't hold the lockdown for much longer. There needed to be some high-stepping done to clear the matter at hand, and get things back to normal. He eyed his calendar, where he had blocked out every Monday and replaced it with, "Tuesday, pt 1". Yep, there it was, meeting in one hour, and there was no getting out of it. Truth was, seeing as how it was with Chief Simons, he needed to go with bells on. Still, it was Monday, for crying out loud. His mood sunk as he walked the grey halls, and plummeted as he saw piles of folders on the briefing room table. Simons was there, as was Hammond, and they were talking quietly as Jack entered. "Colonel Jack O'Neill, Chief Warren Simon."

"Hi." Jack shook the dark hand, and sat with a fake look of interest.

Hammond noticed and raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem, colonel?"

Jack jerked his head up, and managed a grim smile. "Monday, sir."

"I see. Chief Simon, if you will?"

The older man nodded. His hair dotted his black scalp like snow. "I've been in touch with officials from the NSA, CIA and FBI," he said, in a pleasant voice that belonged in a church choir. "It seems we are on the brink of an international incident, one which is to be kept under wraps until such time as security clears it, or the situation comes to a head."

"And what situation would this be?" Jack asked.

Chief Simons slapped a folder before each of them, and Jack winced. "It seems we have a possible infiltration. Several watchlisted Chinese nationals have entered the country, and it seems they've had contact with someone from the SGC."

Jack opened the folder and leafed through until he found a black and white picture. "Oh, imagine my surprise. More photos." He hesitated. "This is the person they've had contact with?"

"Yes. I believe he was recently transferred here?"

"Stan Greyson," the General said solemnly.

"We recommend putting him under constant surveillance."

"Why would Greyson have contact with Chinese officials?" Jack had a sudden queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. There was no mistaking these photos. These were clear cut.

"That's the clincher." He paused for effect. "It seems the US government has received word of a possible third gate."

Jack had once heard an intriguing phrase, something about silence in a room being deafening. His ears rang with the words, but neither the colonel nor the general could gather enough coherent thoughts to word a sentence for several moments. Jack finally managed to find some, and it was a redundancy. "Third gate?"

"In China."

Hammond found his voice as well, and Jack couldn't recall the man ever having looked so astonished. "Why weren't we notified of this before?"

"Apparently intelligence just received word and passed it along when news of this contact was discovered," Simon replied calmly.

"You think Greyson is passing along information to the Chinese about our Stargate?"

"I think SCG personnel has no business meeting with Chinese officials without the consent of the SGC."

"I don't believe this," Jack muttered. "That geek doesn't have the brains or the guts to pull off anything this extreme."

"Guts or no, I have my orders to put him under surveillance, and for all information disclosed here to remain in this room."

"I assume I'll be notified of updates?" Hammond asked angrily. It had nothing to do with the man in the chair, Simon was one person he could get along with. But the situation was becoming increasingly absurd.

"When I know you'll know, general."

"Very well. Remember, this stays in this room. Is there anything else?"

"Other than the obvious, which is not to tip the guy off, no sir."

"Very well. Thank you, Warren, please say hello to your wife for me. And Jack, I need you for a minute." Chief Simon nodded and shook hands warmly, yet very businesslike. Jack liked the man. He stayed behind, knowing what was coming, and dreading every word. "Seems those initial reports are accurate. How long has Dr. Jackson known Greyson?"

"They went to the same college, though they didn't know each other well back then."

"But they are working together now."

"Yes sir."

"Colonel, I'm between minds as to whether we should ask to let Dr. Jackson in on our secret. If they are working closely, there is a chance that information may slip."

"And if he doesn't know, he could place himself in grave danger. I'm not about to let that happen."

"Dr. Jackson may be the reason Greyson is here. He may be the link."

"So, what do I do, glue myself to his side?"

"Of course not. Go on about your business, and let the proper authorities go about theirs. If they are this convinced, something will happen soon."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Hammond nodded, and his voice softened. "Keep an eye on him."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

There were few things Daniel hated more than shopping. If he were on the lookout for some strange artifact in a collector's gathering or auction, yeah, that he could handle. But this whole thing about groceries just got on his nerve. Not that he couldn't cook, he could, he wasn't a gourmet chef or anything. Just that he had more pressing matters to attend to, but his empty cabinets and growling stomach told him he needed to at least get some bread and peanut butter. Truth be told, he was considering heading to the little Mexican place around the corner, he had a hankering for a burrito. Something quick, something he didn't have to cook, and better than peanut butter. Of course that didn't solve his dilemma for tomorrow. He decided to let tomorrow solve it's own dilemma. Definitely a burrito night.

He was in the process of re-shelving the can when a man bumped into him and apologized. Daniel thought nothing of it and smiled, then walked to the car, looking at his watch. The restaurant had just reopened for dinner. Daniel stood outside for a moment, questioning his decision when the money could better spend at the grocery store, and didn't notice the figure walk by, take a nice, long look at him, and continue on. He did notice, however, when the racing of an engine passed too close and popped the curb. Daniel slammed himself against the building as the car roared past, shattering the decorative pots that held plants and rear-ending a parked car. This didn't stop them as they backed up and continued on. Nearby people started to stare, each muttering and shaking their heads in disbelief. One approached him and asked if he was okay, and he said yes, knowing it was a lie. Food forgotten, he got into his own car, which was miraculously unscathed, and returned to the mountain.

This put him in the commissary at eleven pm, staring at a bagel smothered with cream cheese, and his usual blend of coffee. The shock of the evening had worn off, but not the puzzle. He hadn't mentioned the event to anyone, and had no intention of doing so. It would be on the news no doubt, but he wouldn't be connected to it, not if he just kept his mouth shut. He just needed to think. Surely it was a coincidence. Wrong place at the wrong time, that sort of thing. Drunk kids gunning it to impress someone. Nothing to do with anything. Surely nothing to do with him. He lifted the bagel to his mouth, then set it down with a sigh and pushed away from the table. Right into Teal'c.

"Is everything quite all right, Daniel Jackson?"

"You need to put a Jaffa alarm around your neck," Daniel responded irritably as he caught his breath, and leaned back over the table as Teal'c took a seat across from him.

"What troubles you?"

Daniel looked at his friend, remembering his old stoic ways, how things like jokes had to be explained, how he seemed to wear the same expression of disdain no matter what the situation. Now he was open, relaxed, it was evident in his posture and slight smile he carried. And it didn't make talking to him a damn bit easier. "Nothing, Teal'c, I'm fine." Inwardly, he cringed.

"It has been my experience that your relegating a situation 'fine' does in fact leads to the opposite," Teal'c said softly. His gaze never left Daniel, it was possible he hadn't blinked once since he sat down. "Are you still upset about having to return that artifact?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I am." Nice cover, Teal'c. Thanks for the help.

"You realize the action was necessary to serve the best interest of the SGC, and yourself."

"I do realize that, but. . . you know what, I'm over it. Really. Just stings a little." Daniel managed a smile and wondered if diplomacy here would be a good way to ease out of the conversation. No, wait, he had a better tactic. "So, how's Ryac?" No matter the planet, a father couldn't resist speaking of his son. This led to a nice discussion of the young man's maturity, his odd habits, and the fact that no matter how hard he tried, Teal'c just couldn't understand him. Daniel fit in the appropriate nods and let his mind wander. He didn't notice his name being called until the Sargent stuck his face right in front of Daniel's, giving him his third scare of the day. "Sorry, but General Hammond wishes to see you."

"He's here? At this time of night?" Daniel frowned and noticed the displeased look on Teal'c's face as he rose. "Oh, uh, Teal'c, maybe we should continue this conversation another time?"

"Or perhaps I would better occupy my time talking to a wall," Teal'c commented, and his look let Daniel know that he wasn't getting off easily. Damn. He muttered an apology and was led to General Hammond's office, where two cops sat, as well as Colonel O'Neill. There was a writeup on the general's desk, and Daniel instantly knew what it was.

Double damn.

"Sit down, Dr. Jackson," Hammond said sternly, and Daniel felt like a school kid about to be scolded. Jack just balanced on the table's edge, his arms crossed in front of him, his expression unreadable. He glanced at Daniel only once, but that telltale sign was enough. The colonel was pissed. But at him? "It seems you were involved in an incident this evening which you didn't report to the authorities and should have. You care to fill us in?"

Truthfully? No. "If you mean the car. . ."

"Damn right I mean the car!" Hammond leaned forwards, and Daniel nearly shrunk in his seat. "You were nearly run down by 'the car', and you didn't see fit to report anything? Can you explain that?"

"How do we know they were gunning for me?" Daniel asked innocently. It was a logical question.

"Passer-bys," one of the policeman said, "eye witnesses. One who walked out with you said they saw a man bump you then get into the car. Plus there is the point of where you were standing. I'm told you were at the door of the Two Pesos restaurant, which is fairly well hidden behind those large vases they have. Judging by the damage and tire marks, you're lucky to be here."

"There were at least fifteen other people on that street," Daniel responded. "No proof they were aiming for me."

Jack spoke up. "Other than this guy saw you get bumped, and saw the man get into the car, and saw them head right for you. Other than that, I guess you can dismiss this." Oh yeah, he was pissed.

"What other guy? Who is this other guy?" Daniel looked at the door in confusion as a man was signaled to enter. He blinked a few times in astonishment. "Teal'c?"

"I apologize, Daniel Jackson." The Jaffa did seem sorry, but whether it was because of his secret or because his tail was caught, Daniel wasn't sure.

"TEAL'C?" He was getting angry. Okay, furious. "Someone want to explain what the hell is going on?"

"You're being tailed, Daniel." Jack raised his finger. "No, don't go there. Those photos are proof. This is proof. Someone is tailing you, and obviously wants you. . .gone from here."

"Dr. Jackson, I hate to do this, but you are restricted to the SCG until further notice."

Daniel shook his head rapidly and leaned forward. "General. . ."

"No discussion. I've decided this is the best thing to do, for now. There is a full investigation into the matter. . ."

"General, with all due respect, shouldn't the investigation be hinged towards the explosion and not me?"

"And how do you know the events aren't related, Dr. Jackson?"

Daniel gritted his teeth and sat back, saying nothing.

"We don't plan on making you a prisoner here. You can go out, but with SGC personnel covering your back. Colonel O'Neill or Teal'c, for example. But you will have to stay on base until we get a grip on what's really going on. This is for your safety. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Hammond nodded. "I have a few matters to discuss with the police. Colonel, you know where Dr. Jackson's room is."

"Yes sir." Jack unfolded his arms and stood, allowing Daniel to go before him. Teal'c followed, and once they were out, Daniel rounded on the two of them.

"I'm being tailed? Damn straight! Who's idea was this?"

"I believe it was General Hammond's," Teal'c said, unrepentantly.

"How long have you been watching me?"

"Two days now."

Daniel wanted desperately to slam his fist into a wall. Instead he turned and contemplated Jack's nose. "I suppose you thought this was a good idea."

"Daniel, I swear to god," Jack stood nose to nose, "there are times when I want to take you out on the Prometheus and throw you through the damn bulkhead! You have brains, use them! You are the, the expert on things like, oh, say Goa'uld technology, you know, small things like that. You are responsible for all of this," he swung his arms wide, "all of it, you hear me? Can you even comprehend what you are to this place?" He jabbed a finger into Daniel's chest. "You are the most selfish, self-centered. . .no, see, that's not even right, because you're not! Dammit! What the hell does it take to make you see what's going on here?"

"How about talking to me? Huh? Filling me in? 'Cause obviously you know something I don't!"

Jack worked his jaw, and looked at Teal'c, who merely held a displeased and worried expression on his face. Daniel exchanged glanced with the two men, and sighed.

"Fine. I can find my room myself, I have to pick up a few things from the office. No need to follow."

"Daniel. . ."

"I saw the numbers on the sheet, I fuckin' know where to go, all right?" Daniel clenched his jaw and lowered his head, suddenly ashamed by his outburst. "Look, I appreciate the concern. Really. Even though there's no reason in it."

"Daniel," Jack said quietly, "if there is no reason, then why didn't you tell us about the car?"

Daniel had no answer for that. He merely muttered that he had to go, and hurried away. He wasn't the least bit surprised to find a guard at the door to his temporary quarters.


	9. Chapter 9

It was later that evening, or rather earlier in the morning, when Daniel decided he was peckish. After all, he'd had nothing to eat. He managed to talk to guard into letting him out of his room for a quick trip to the commissary, unaccompanied. The guard had no orders to follow him, he was merely supposed to keep an eye on his room, but did say Daniel was supposed to call for an escort. "Fine, I'll get Stan to come with me," he said, and ducked into the elevator.

The last shift change was under effect, as most of the personnel headed home, and the day crew due in. Daniel couldn't find Stan in his office. Probably went home. He sighed, and noticed a scrap of paper on the small desk. He tilted his head to look at it, then raised it to his eyes for a better view. Then he bolted out of the office.

Daniel ran down the corridors as fast as he could, forcing his way past a tide of people. He skidded around a corner and slammed into the closed elevator doors, then cursed and headed for the stairs. He was near the vault when he heard shots fired.

He yanked on the door handle, to no avail. One of the MP's who had happened to come upon the incident pulled out his pistol and shot at the handle with a metallic ping, then kicked it in. Daniel rushed inside and looked quickly around, seeing a dead man propped on the shelves across from him. "Stan?" He started a quick sweep of the area and found his friend on his side in the corner. "Stan!" He ran to the injured man and slowly turned him over. "Oh god. . ."

"Daniel. . ."

"Nonono, don't move, I'm calling for help. Just lie still."

"I just radioed, Dr. Jackson," the MP said as more joined him. Daniel nodded his thanks and turned his attention back to his friend.

"God it hurts. . ."

"I know, I know, just hold on, help's coming."

"I didn't mean to kill him. You've got to believe me.. He just came at me. . .never thought it would be Brooks. . .known him for years. . .didn't mean to kill him. . ."

"If you didn't you'd be dead. It was self defense." Daniel applied pressure to the wound, wincing at the man's tortured groan. "Sorry, I need to do this."

"Daniel. . ."

"No. Don't say anything, just hang on."

"No, listen to me. He wanted the artifact. He was looking for it, he didn't know you had returned it to the planet."

Daniel frowned and pulled back slightly. "What?"

"Daniel?" A new voice echoed down the hall, a voice that carried more than it's fair share of tension.

"In here!" Daniel shifted the pressure as he moved to the side and allowed Dr. Frasier access. He reluctantly backed away as she waved him off, and felt a hand grab his elbow.

"You okay?" Jack asked, his gaze switching from his friend to Stan.

Daniel was becoming dizzy with the sudden influx of people. "I-I'm fine. Didn't even see what happened, just heard the shots."

Jack gave a solemn nod and released him. "That's our man over there, then? You know him?" He stepped aside as more personnel filed in and surrounded the dead man.

"No clue. Stan knew him though. He's pretty torn up about this."

"Guess he would be." Jack glanced around the crowded room. "Look, let's go out into the hall. Janet'll be on your ass if you hover."

"Yeah, okay." Daniel cast one more look at his colleague and followed the Colonel into the hall, just in time to meet Sam and Teal'c. Great, more people to dodge. Daniel's sudden temper was quelled by the fear in Sam's eyes. Teal'c looked displeased, and his careful scrutiny of Daniel betrayed his concern, but Sam openly threw her arms around Daniel, then just as quickly pulled back.

"What happened?" she asked breathlessly.

"Stan got him. That's all I know, really. He walked in on him, and shot in self-defense."

"God." Sam shook her head.

"Jack, Stan said he was looking for the artifact. He said this man didn't know that I had returned it. I-I found a note in his office, saying to meet this man down here. . ."

Jack frowned and pulled Daniel aside as Stan was rushed out of the door on the way to the infirmary. He pressed his hand to the man's shoulder in a gesture to stay put, then walked back into the room and address a young, black captain. What was his name? Stenner? "Any idea who this man is?"

"Yes sir." The young captain stood and wiped his hands. "Reginald Brooks. Transferred here about four weeks ago. Can't remember where he said he was from, you'd need to do a profile check, sir. He wasn't on any outbound teams that I know of."

"Still in training?"

"Think so, sir."

"Any idea how he knew about this place?"

"This vault isn't a well-kept secret. We just can't get in. Sir."

"Right. No idea how he got in then?"

"Bamboozled the guards somehow. As of this moment we don't even know where they are, when we arrived it was just Greyson, an MP, Brooks, and Dr. Jackson."

Jack nodded and pulled him aside. "Look, Stenner, I appreciate your help. I've got to go talk to the General, but I need you to do something for me."

"Sir?"

"Pull a personnel file on the victim here, and one on Stan Greyson. This is the second time he's been conveniently close."

"Yes, sir."

Jack released Stenner and turned to see Daniel standing behind him. "Jack, Stan has nothing to do with this."

Jack thought back to the photos that Simon had produced. "We don't know that."

"I don't supposed you could just take my word for it?"

"No, I can't, Daniel. Too many people are dying. Now he may know something, he may be holding out."

"Come on. . ."

"Now you listen, . ."

"He wouldn't do that!"

"Right, well, there was a time when I didn't think you would do that, you know?" Jack elbowed past him.

"Why can't you just forgive me for an error in judgement?" Daniel asked, tailing Jack.

"I can. Just not right now."

"Then when?"

"When I'm satisfied that you haven't made another error in judgement with your friend here." Jack turned to give Daniel a grim look, then rounded the corner. Daniel clenched his fists in frustration then sighed and sank back against the wall as the MP's continued to investigate four doors down. This was not a good week. Or month.

The day passed in a blur, and when night rolled around once again, Daniel looked in on Stan. The man was pale, his once ruddy complexion now melding with the stark sheets. The ventilator pumped his chest. Machines blipped, machines he himself had been attached to at one point or another. They saved his life, performed the same functions that it was performing on Stan at that moment. But Daniel knew. He saw it in the glances that Janet gave him, in the way the nurses walked by almost respectfully. He saw it in the sallowness of his friend's cheeks, in the way his eyes didn't flicker in sleep behind closed eyelids. Daniel leaned in. "I never gave you a chance to be my friend," he said softly, "you'd think with all the death I've seen, I'd know to pay more attention. We still have time. I still want to show you that coffee shop, it'll remind you of Chicago." He smiled slightly. "What I'm saying is, don't you dare give up on me. 'Cause I'm not giving up on you." Daniel gripped Stan's hand and squeezed it, then stood. He had to get out of there. He sent a silent apology and left.

Jack found him in his office thumbing through documents at a speed that showed he wasn't paying the least bit of attention to what they said, rather he was keeping his hands moving, looking busy. The Colonel lingered in the doorway until Daniel looked up and motioned him in. "I can't find my notes on the Adrani," he muttered, "I just had them and now they're gone."

"Daniel. . ."

"I'm so stupid. I know where they are. . ." He shouldered past and tried to make his escape down the hall but Jack caught him by the arms. The expression on his face said it all. "When?" Daniel asked quietly.

"Just a few minutes ago. I was with the General when he got the call. Said I'd . . ." he shrugged, "you know. . ."

"Janet's with him."

"Yeah, she's doing what she does, look, I know. . ."

"Jack, don't." Daniel pushed away.

"I did like him. More because you did, but still." Jack's eyes met Daniel's. "He didn't deserve this."

"Who does?" Daniel succeeded in getting past Jack, but pause when he heard his name.

"Want company?"

"No thanks." Daniel glanced over his shoulder and gave a nod. "I'll see you later." He left Jack standing in the hall. Jack hesitated, then sighed and walked the other way.

He was too still. Everything was too quiet. The machines were off, there was only the sounds of the surrounding medical personnel tending the other patients. Daniel just stared at Stan Greyson. Dead. Gone. Janet came up behind Daniel and rubbed his arm. Daniel gave a little smile of appreciation before his expression sobered.

"He was a good guy, ya know? Hard worker, another month and he'd have been running laps around me. I wanted him as an assistant, he was good. Really good." He gave a small laugh, capped by tears. "He had a way of storing facts in his head. It was like thumbing through a card catalog when you asked him something. He was going to make my books obsolete." Daniel smiled, then clinched his fist and turned away. "I really hoped he would pull through."

"Massive infection," Janet said gently. "Loss of blood, there was nothing I could do."

"I'm sure you did all you could."

Janet's eyes sought her friend's face. "You gonna be okay?"

A sarcastic laugh escaped Daniel's lips. "Sure. Not the first time I've lost someone." He pushed away Janet's attempt to hold him back. "I'm fine. I'm going home, after all this," he waved his hand in the air, "I've got clearance. I just need to be alone, okay?"

"Okay," Janet replied softy. She watched Daniel leave, then picked up the phone.


	10. Chapter 10

Almost there...this is where the story goes for a fast ride, so hang on.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was late, way too damn late. Daniel glanced at his clock and gave a small sigh, not wanting to go to bed, but realizing his body was just giving out. Stan's death had taken it's toll in an odd way, combined with the stress of recent events. He shuffled to the kitchen and filled a small glass with water. A knock sounded behind him, startling him. Only Jack would have the audacity to come at this time of night, so Daniel humored him and went to open the door.

"Hello, Daniel."

Daniel actually fell to the floor, his glass spilling water onto the wood.. He stared up at the familiar face who smiled back down at him. His mouth worked and his pulse raced as his vision threatened to close around him.

Stan knelt down. "Hey, easy there, mate!" He took hold of his friend's arm and pulled him to his feet, steadying him.

Daniel just stared at him wide-eyed, looking over his body for any signs of injury. "This. . .This isn't possible."

"What isn't?"

"Y-You were shot, you died. . ."

"I've been told you've surfaced from the dead several times yourself."

"With help, sure, but not – god Stan, what the hell's going on?" Daniel's expression was almost frantic. This just wasn't possible, not for Stan. . .but why not for Stan? Oh god. . .

"Not here. Inside. Come on." Stan pushed the door wider and guided the shocked man through. Daniel fell into a chair as Stan headed for the kitchen. "I bet you have a pot of coffee already made."

"It's not fresh," Daniel muttered. Brows were tightly drawn over confused eyes.

"Never mind, I'll make more." Stan rummaged for filters and the coffee canister.

"Stan. . ."

"Yeah?"

"Look," Daniel finally pulled his thoughts together and stood, "don't walk around here as though nothing's happened! You were dead! Janet said. . ."

"Janet lied."

"Janet doesn't lie, gimme that." He took the filter box.

"Apparently she does!" Stan turned and spread his arms. "Case in point."

"Why?"

"I needed to be dead."

"I'm calling Janet." Daniel headed for the phone. The phone suddenly spun out of view as he was flung around and pressed back hard against the wall.

"No!" Now Stan looked panicked. "No, wait, just hear me out. She had nothing do to with this."

Daniel gripped the arms holding him. "You just said. . ."

"I know, look, just listen, please."

"Then how?"

"I can't tell you."

"You were shot."

"Yes."

Daniel pushed Stan off. "Listen, you either tell me what the hell is going on, or I'm calling the MP's without hearing your side of things!"

"Call them for what? Faking my death?" Stan smiled, then sobered. "Seriously. Don't call them, just help me. I'm in trouble, mate."

"What kind of trouble?"

Stan sighed and braced himself on the kitchen counter as the aroma of coffee filled the area. "I uh, I got myself into something. Something heavy. I was being tracked, I had to disappear."

"Does Janet know, or not?"

"No. I mean, I'm sure she does by now."

"What are you into?"

"I can't tell you. No, Daniel, wait. . ."

"Look, Stan. . ." Daniel had the phone in hand.

"Daniel, please!"

"This is way out of my league. . ."

"Out of your league? You've been off world, you've fought more battles than most seasoned vets. You've been a negotiator, a scientist, and a renaissance man, working for _the_ top government military project in the world! And this is out of your league?" Stan snorted and turned away.

"Yes! For the past two weeks we have been talking government sabotage, conspiracy, and military politics that I can't even began to understand! I'm an archaeologist, remember, like you are supposed to be! Now you tell me you're tied up in all this?"

"I need to go to that planet."

Daniel blinked. "What? Which planet?"

"Where you took the artifact."

"Why?"

"Because I need the artifact!"

"Why?"

"Dammit, stop being so obtuse! You know the investigation's hinged around that thing."

"Yeah, but that doesn't explain why you need it!"

"To get it out of your way."

"It _is_ out of the way, Stan. Now stop beating around the bush and. . ." Daniel froze and his eyes widened. "No. Oh, no."

"Daniel. . ."

"It was you. All this time." A small smile played on Daniel's lips. "I can't believe it."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You, you were near the elevator shaft when it blew. . .you didn't come from the side hall! You were in the elevator. You got out on that floor and were headed the other way, you sent the elevator back down, didn't you? And you were in the vault. You were tampering with the database in my office when Jack and I walked in on you. You," he shook his finger at Stan, "you said I left the screen up."

"And you believed me, by the way!"

"I thought you were honest!"

"And what about you, old pal? You lied to your best friend for me!"

Daniel circled the kitchen table, dragging his fingertip over the top as he collected his thoughts. He then planted his hands atop. "Why do you want the artifact?"

"That's none of your business."

"Bullshit! Dammit, Stan, you say you're in trouble, you want help, now level with me here!"

"Take me to the planet."

"I can't. You know I can't."

Stan nodded and sighed, then snatched a large cutting knife from the cutting block. "I think you'll change your mind."

The small smile returned as Daniel looked on in disbelief. "Stan?"

"I'm not kidding, Daniel. Take me."

"Stan, come on. . ."

"Take me!" Stan suddenly lunged and caught the flesh on Daniel's arm with the sharp edge. Daniel gasped and pressed his hand to the wound while backing around the table. "See? See what I can do? Bet you never thought that, did you Daniel? Never thought I'd hurt someone."

"Stan, please. Let me call Jack. He'll help you, or. . .something. . ."

"Colonel O'Neill is the last person I need to see. God, Daniel, I thought we were friends?"

"You just sliced me with a knife!"

"You won't listen!"

Daniel shook his head. "No, I don't want this. This isn't right. Now please, just-just put that down, we'll talk to. . ."

Without warning Stan hauled himself over the table and pushed Daniel back against the counter. Daniel grabbed the hand with the knife and pushed Stan back against the table, slamming his wrist against the side until the weapon clattered to the floor. The room spun and he met the floor with a grunt, his cheek smashed against the tile, one arm pulled behind him and the pain of a knee digging heavily into his back. He tried to raise his head, to question Stan's actions, but couldn't move. He flinched as hot breath grazed his ear. "You will take me."

"What's. . .happened to you? You. . . think threatening me. . . will get you there?" Daniel forced out.

"I think telling you that I have an accomplice watching your pretty team member's house will."

Daniel continued trying to throw Stan off. "What are you talking about?"

"The blond, mate."

Daniel's struggles suddenly ceased. "Sam?"

Stan smiled and pulled Daniel to his feet. "Shall we go?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"What do you mean Stan's gone?" Jack was forcing his arms into the sleeves of his jacket as he hurried to his jeep. His cell phone was balanced precariously between his ear and his shoulder, and he shifted it as he flipped the jacket on.

"That's what Dr. Frasier said," Hammond's voice was tense. "And that's not all. Major Carter called saying there has been a car parked across the street from her house for some time. She asked for an escort to work, and it wasn't until an MP showed that the car left."

"Licence plate?"

"Of course."

"What about Daniel?"

"No one has been able to get in touch with him."

"Right. I'll swing by his place real quick."

"The base is on emergency alert so be prepared for the protocol."

"Right. Be there in ten." Son of a bitch.

Son of a fucking bitch.


	11. Chapter 11

"General Hammond, we have a situation."

Hammond hated announcements like that. He hurried from his office and walked quickly with the young captain. "Brief me again."

"Stan Greyson has infiltrated the base. He has Doctor Jackson with him."

"Hostage?"

"Yes sir. "

"Security?"

"Engaged and ready to use force if necessary. Awaiting your orders."

"Where was Greyson headed?"

"Best we can tell, the Gateroom, sir."

"Best you can tell?"

"He was spotted by one MP but they were unable to apprehend him, due to the risk to Dr, Jackson's safety. After that we lost track."

"I want any and all available security personnel teams activated, and three extra teams stationed in the gateroom."

"Yes sir."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You know guards are going to be there. You can't just kill a man and take his weapon, they'll know. You work here, you know what's its like. . ."

"Shut up." The gun was pressed to his temple.

"We aren't going through the gate."

"I said shut up!"

"You were right about needing my help. You're gonna to need it to get out of this."

Stan merely tightened his arm around Daniel's neck as he used his fist to punch in the code to the gateroom and slide the card. Daniel shuffled, feeling himself pulled into the room and seeing the door close, then felt Stan freeze. He managed to turn his head to see the room filled with weapons aimed at him and his captor. General Hammond stood in the center, and he had never seen such anger on his face. Jack stood just to the side. Teal'c was near him, to Stan's left, and he managed to meet those dark eyes. The large, comforting presence eased his tension slightly. A quick glance upwards showed Carter, safe, in the control room. He felt his body ease. Oh, thank god.

Stan tightened his grip once again, and it was all Daniel could do not to grunt. "Stand aside, General. I've already talked with Dr. Jackson here and he's agreed to take me through."

"I don't think so, Dr. Greyson," the General said, angrily. "Not to mention, having a gun at his head doesn't look like an agreement to me." He took a step toward the man. "Now we've humored you by allowing you to get this far. Release Dr. Jackson and surrender yourself."

"Not on your life." Stan surprised everyone by doggedly pushing his way to the gate, pulling Daniel alongside him, the gun still poised. Jack planted himself between the two men and the gate.

"No," the Colonel said coldly, "not on your life. Nor my friend's here. End of the line, Stan, now let him go. You know you can't go through that gate."

"Jack, let him," Daniel croaked.

"What?"

"Let him through. Let me talk to him."

"No."

"Unwise, Colonel," Stan said, jamming the small firearm painfully underneath Daniel's jaw. Jack just managed to catch the look in his friend's eye, not quite pleading, but clearly he wanted the ordeal to be over. Stan slowly backed up the ramp. "Now open the gate."

A single shot rang through the air and caught Stan in the arm. The gun fell with a clatter and both men pitched forwards, Stan landing heavily on Daniel's back. Jack pulled him away, then pulled Daniel to his feet, steadying the dazed man, who looked back at Stan, now surrounded by the MP's that weren't busy apprehending the person responsible for the single shot . . . .

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"He turned himself in," Hammond said. He folded his hands on the two-toned tabled of the briefing room. "Turns out he was the one initially responsible for the explosion, and for getting Dr. Greyson into the SGC."

"He was working for the Chinese?" Daniel asked in disbelief.

"As were two others. All have been apprehended."

"What was his reason?" Jack asked.

"He just said it was wrong. That's all he would say, over and over."

"Trying to get an out?"

Hammond shrugged. "Who knows. The point is, a lot of information is floating around out there, and we don't know what has been said, and as of this moment we aren't entirely sure of the recipient. As a result, security measures will be tightened for the next six months at the very least, until we have a clearer idea as to what is going on." He turned to Daniel. "Dr. Jackson, you realize that due to your connection to Dr. Greyson, you'll be a key witness to this investigation, and there is a strong possibility that you will be under surveillance for a time."

"I understand," Daniel said quietly. He hadn't said much during the debriefing, which wasn't surprising. "How is Stan?"

Hammond wasn't surprised by this either. "Sore. Damned lucky. He'll be shipped out of here within a few hours."

"Sir, I know this isn't exactly standard procedure, but may I see him before he leaves?"

"Absolutely not."

Daniel flinched. "Please, General. I'm not vouching for what he did, I just have some questions, some things which may be pertinent to this investigation."

"You can't go in there and question him unless there is a legal authority to supervise."

"Then let me question him as a friend."

"They _were _friends, sir," Jack interceded. Daniel gave him a grateful look, which Jack caught and rebuked. "Though I still can't imagine why."

Hammond thought for a moment. "I guess I don't see what it could harm. You can have five minutes, and five minutes only. And there will be a guard in the room."

"Of course." Daniel sent Jack a withering glance and stood. "Thank you."

"Need company?" Jack stood as well, and his expression left no room for a discussion. Daniel merely gave a nod and excused himself. Hammond gave Jack a stern glance that overlaid his concern. Jack nodded in understanding, then caught up with Daniel.

"Hey."

Daniel kept walking. "Happy now, Jack?"

"What?"

"You were right. You wanted this pinned on him, and you were right, I was wrong, and you should be happy."

Jack stopped and jerked Daniel around to face him. "I can't believe that just came out of your mouth."

"Believe it."

"He's responsible for five deaths and counting. You gonna defend that?"

"I didn't say he was right!"

"Then what are you saying?"

"I'm saying. . ." Daniel gritted his teeth, "I'm saying I should have seen it coming. I'm saying I overlooked the obvious. I'm saying I feel played, and used, and it pisses me off!" Daniel jerked away and started back down the hall, then turned. "What if it had been you?"

"Pardon?"

The look in his eye was desperate. "What if for some reason you did something wrong, betrayed your country or the SGC, you think I would have stood up for you? Or would I let you rot?"

"Daniel. . ." Jack shook his head in confusion, "what are you talking about?"

"He was my friend, Jack." He held the gaze for a moment before tearing it away and starting down the hall once again. Jack followed.

Two large guards blocked entrance to the hall, while two more stood before the door. Credentials were flashed, calls were made, and the door was opened. Daniel hesitated outside. "You coming?"

Jack started. "You sure?"

"He's my friend. But you are too, and I need someone in there that I can trust."

Jack was speechless for a moment, then he nodded.

The room was plain. So was the expression on Stan's face as Daniel entered. Not a flicker of emotion passed. He just watched, impassively. Daniel stood before him, hands deep in his pockets, and the door open behind him with Jack in its path. He cleared his throat and wiped at the tip of his nose nervously, signaling for Jack to close the door. There was a chair in the room, and Daniel sat. Stan hadn't moved. He sat in his own chair, pushed to the table.

Daniel sniffed and clasped his hands together. "I guess you know why I'm here.

Not that I think you'll talk to me or anything, I just need. . .I wanted to see you before you left." There was no response, and after several moments of silence Daniel pushed against his knees and stood. "I can't condone your actions. But I think I understand why you did it, I mean, from an emotional standpoint." He faced the seated man. "What did they promise you, Stan? Were you really that bad off?" Stan continued to stare, but allowed a blink. Daniel pushed a bit. "I was told you couldn't get any grants. They thought you were getting paid, but your accounts showed no change. What was the payoff? Chinese national notoriety?" Sarcasm didn't pull anything from the man.

"Give it up, Daniel," Jack muttered. "He obviously doesn't give a rat's ass."

"You're wrong." Stan cut his gaze to the man behind Daniel.

"Then what were you thinking?" Daniel pleaded, returning to his seat and pinning Stan with a demanding look.

"They offered me work. They offered me a place to stay, steady pay to do what I enjoyed. No grants. No living hand to mouth."

"Stan, everyone starts out like that! Why do you think you deserved better?"

"Because I do!"

"You have a funny way of going about it," Jack muttered.

"It made sense to me. They said the Stargate program ought to be a world-wide project, and they're right. They're right! It's totally selfish of us to keep it to ourselves."

"You realize the kind of international incidents we'd have if it were made public?" Jack asked.

"You see the kind of international incident it causes when it isn't?" Stan snorted. "Don't give me that high and mighty American bureaucracy. There was a power source that could have done so much for the Chinese, not to mention third world countries, people below you, that could benefit. Can you even imagine what worldly issues that source would have resolved?"

"Can you imagine what would have happened if it were placed in the hands of someone who knew nothing about it? Dammit, it wasn't stable here, you know that!"

"And we knew why. Don't be so daft, Daniel." He sighed. "I was sent to retrieve the power source. Those Chinese are actually NID agents. I was supposed to retrieve the artifact, but you sent it away right under my nose, and I had no way of getting there."

"But. . .what about the first one? Why did you blow it up, if you needed it?"

Stan rolled his eyes. "Think, Daniel. It had the capacity to blow the entire mountain off the bloody map." He slowly shook his head at Daniel's bewildered expression. "It was faulty, mate! It didn't work. It was arranged for transport, and it blew. It wasn't supposed to, believe it or not. But I knew there was another, only I'd never seen it."

"And I wonder why that is," Jack muttered.

"Enough," Daniel grumbled, his eyes fixed on Stan's. "So," he said to him, "when I sent it back to the planet, it threw your plans for a loop. You needed to find a way to go back, but couldn't since the SGC was grounded for so long, and with highly monitored, restricted travel afterwards. You panicked. Your time was running out. But what about Brooks?"

Stan apparently felt no need to hold anything back. "He suspected. I was hanging around the vaults too much, asking all these annoying questions. I meant to throw him off his game by getting him to ignore me by way of babbling, but I discredited him. He was a smart man."

"And the note?"

"Planted by me. He was suspecting, I had to. . .you know."

Jack was leaning against the wall, watching the exchange with growing anger. "And what about those photos of Daniel leaving his house? Planted as well?"

"My associate took those. I was hoping to give Daniel something different to worry about, to distract him. Take the angle from me."

"One more question," Jack inserted. "What's this about a third gate?"

Stan looked confused, and it was the most truthful expression he'd held since the two of them entered the cell. "I don't know anything about a third gate. Where'd you hear that?"

Jack studied him. "Like I'd tell you." He waved away Daniel's inquiring glance and gestured for him to continue.

Stan was starting to look panicked. His breath hitched and he sent a sorrowful look to his friend. "I'm sorry, Daniel, really. I never meant . . .look, I told you I was into something big, and I needed help, but you wouldn't help."

"Talking to me about it would have been the way to get help, Stan, not by waving a gun at me and threatening my friends." Daniel had heard enough. He stood.

"You'll speak well, of me, right? I'm a good scientist, Daniel, you know that. I have a head for facts. You'll speak for me, won't you? Daniel?"

"Head for facts, but his planning sucks," Jack said as Daniel turned away from Stan and headed for the door. He did stop once, at one final plea, then forced himself out of the room.

Jack followed. "Daniel. . ."

"Shut up, Jack. Just. . .I don't want to talk right now. Just. . .don't talk." Daniel plowed on, then suddenly stopped and slumped sideways against the wall. He wasn't even aware of Jack easing him to the floor as the aftereffect of recent events took hold.

"Easy . . ." Jack knelt before him. He braced the man, holding his arms, trying to look him in the eyes.

Daniel forced back a sob, slamming his head back against the wall in frustration. "God, I hate this. I hate this!"

"I know."

"There's not a damn thing I can do. If he had just . . . he knew where I was, why didn't he just call me instead of being such an ass?"

"Because obviously he isn't as intelligent as you gave him credit for."

Daniel's eyes narrowed in anger. "No. He was more desperate than I thought he was." He sighed and let his head roll against the wall, closing his eyes. "That could've been me, you know," he said softly. "If Catherine hadn't found me when she did, I might have done something similar. I had nothing, Jack. No place to live, no money, I had a duffle bag and a theory. After a month or more of that, who knows what I would've done. I got lucky." He raised his head. "I need to go back in there. I can't leave it like this, he has to know . . ."

Jack frowned. "Know what?"

"It's between me and Stan. Let me back in."

"Daniel, Hammond said five minutes."

"And I still have one. Please, Jack."

The colonel sighed and gave Daniel a hand up. "One minute."

"You can't come in."

"Daniel, if there's something I need to know . . ."

"There isn't." Daniel's eyes were burning.

Jack stepped in his way as he reached for the doorknob. "This isn't something that's going to come back and bite you on the ass, is it?"

"No." Daniel had his hand ready to push the door open. He waited for Jack to move.

Stan was still in his chair. His eyes were fixed to the table in front of him. He didn't move, and Daniel didn't expect him to. He sighed and paced around the room before standing behind the chair he had occupied just moments earlier. "Look. I'll do what I can for you, and you know why. You also know what I mean when I say I understand, and if I were in your shoes, hell, I don't know." Daniel's eyes sought the ceiling. "I can't tell them, Stan. I can't tell them what went down between us, why you really left for England." Daniel tucked his hands into his pockets. "Even if it would get you out of this mess. I know the real reason why you did this." He took a step around the chair. "But I'll see that you get the best council, okay? Just . . . don't ask me to tell them the truth. I can't do it." He waited, but Stan didn't move. He just stared at the table, studying the pattern of the wood grain. "You know there's too much at stake, for both of us." Daniel sigh, his posture drooping. "Stan?" He leaned forward. "Stan!"

He darted around the table and placed his hand on Stan's shoulder. The head, off balance to the body, pitched forward, and Daniel yelled out.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Cyanide. I have no idea where he kept it, and quite frankly, I don't want to." Dr. Frasier snapped her gloves off and gently pulled the sheet over Stan Greyson's body.

"As morbid as this may sound, he's really dead this time, isn't he?" Daniel asked softly.

Janet turned and took a hesitant breath. "Yes. And don't ask about the last time, because I don't know."

"I do. Goa'uld technology." Daniel leaned over the body slightly, waiting for the chest to move. But there was no movement. Or was there?

"Life and death is not a game. I can't believe an entire race would make it into one." Janet pushed past, but not before giving Daniel a sympathetic pat on the arm.

He stared at the sheet for a while. Nothing moved, nothing happened. It was over, at least his chapter. He would still be under surveillance, grounded from gate travel indefinitely. So, he could catch up his work. And slowly go nuts. And wonder just what the authorities would find.

He slowly reached out and put his hand on Stan's still chest.

For now, there was a red truck to be washed, parked in the upper lot of Cheyenne Mountain. He knew Jack wouldn't let him off that easily.

-END-


End file.
